


In Nature is a Tyranny

by MissKiraBlue



Series: In Nature is a Tyranny [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Animagus Draco Malfoy, Animagus Harry Potter, Blood and Gore, Dark Draco Malfoy, Dark Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy is a Horcrux, Draco is Voldemort's Heir, Emotionless Draco, F/M, Grey Harry Potter to Dark Harry Potter, Half blind Draco, Harry Potter Goes to Durmstrang, Horcruxes, Horror, M/M, Mentor Severus Snape, Metamorphmagus, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Occlumency, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Pansy goes to Beauxbatons, Parselmouth Draco, Patronus, Powerful Draco Malfoy, Powerful Harry Potter, Slytherin Ron Weasley, Smart Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-01 06:57:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13289496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissKiraBlue/pseuds/MissKiraBlue
Summary: Snape told Voldemort The Prophecy. So he planned and planned and when he was done, he knew what to do.Voldemort made a Horcrux out of Draco Malfoy – making him his heir – then he went and vanished by the hands of The Boy Who Lived.The ten–year–old Draco Malfoy has a unique power and every Death Eater fears of him. He knows what he represents. He knows that no one has ever seen his face besides his father.He knows, he needs to start Voldemort's plan.Harry Potter always knew he had something in him. When he turns ten years old, a big man comes to get him, saying it's time.It's time for him to see Dumbledore.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THIS!!
> 
> Hello, my adorable–evils!! I'm here again with a new story which had been on my mind sometime now. I will let the one-shots rest for "Make a Heaven out of Hell" a bit but I'll post them after this story. Now then back to business.
> 
> This work will be a 4 part story or longer. Every relationship will start in part 2, 3, 4. Harry and Draco will only meet in the 2nd part of the story but you need to read this nevertheless to understand everything. 
> 
> Shout out to my 2nd favorite author: ArissAvion. Her work has heavily inspired this story. It's called "The Shadow Summoner" Read it, it's a masterpiece in the making.  
> Also the movie "The Pianist" has also heavily inspired this story (especially in part 3) Watch that movie as well, it's seriously the best in the world.  
> This work will also have some World War II elements (with wizarding's stuff of course) especially on blood purity.
> 
> Also, this work is still not betad. If any of you would want to be my beta let me know ;) and sorry for the mistakes that may occur.
> 
> Now, I hope you'll enjoy this as much as I will XD Hugs and Kisses for everyone and lots of love!!

**Prologue**

 

**In Nature is a Tyranny**

 

 _“Boundless intemperance_  
_In nature is a tyranny; it hath been_  
_The untimely emptying of the happy throne_  
_And fall of many kings.”_  
– William Shakespeare _“Macbeth”_

 

 

  
Voldemort felt the joy and triumph again, after so many years. Snape told him The Prophecy.

 

He planned out everything.

 

His black robes followed him, sweeping the floor and he felt the change in the air. His magic circled around him when he reached the stairs. He knew who lived there. He knew that this will be the ash.

 

He will build something from that ash. Something that will make everyone bow, after everything is over.

 

So when Voldemort reached the stairs, opened the door quietly, commanded Lucius to step aside and made him writhe by the spell _crucio_ , until he fainted. The little Malfoy cried and shouted but then,

 

He went to Narcissa.

 

Who sheltered her son in her arms, protecting him from all costs and Voldemort gave out a joyful laugh. He won’t kill Draco Malfoy.

 

_No._

 

That would be foolish.

 

He will make him his savior.

 

He then lifted his wand and looked at the crying, white-haired Narcissa. He smiled gently at her – making her eyes wide – and said:

 

“You’ll thank me later,” he caressed Draco’s hair and his left eye. This made him cry even louder. “Until we meet again.”

 

And then he shot the spell. _Avada Kedavra_.

 

Narcissa Malfoy fell down, almost dropping the Malfoy boy but Voldemort caught him in time.

 

Then he began the other spell.

 

He felt a little part of his soul – as it detached of him – and crawled into the baby’s left eye. Draco Malfoy cried but when everything nestled there, he stopped. His left eye was colorless, there was no pupil there.

 

Voldemort felt his power and he smiled crookedly at the boy. The power was in there. A lightning struck outside from the clouds, calling a heavy storm to the world.

 

Voldemort saw as Draco Malfoy looked at him with his right grey eye and his left blind eye. He felt that power again.

 

“I have this uncomfortable feeling that I will die today.” He said to Draco who listened to him carefully. “You need to bring me back when the time comes. I’ve already done some helpful instructions.” Draco’s eyes glowed and Voldemort smiled darkly. “I’ve given you a unique power, now,” he stopped and stared at the baby’s eyes. “Show them that I always win.”

 

 

 

**––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

 

  
Dumbledore put down Harry Potter and then knocked on the Dursley’s door, already walking away with Minerva.

 

He felt something when the Dursley’s took Harry in. He felt something when Minerva looked at those people, when he saw the joy in Hagrid’s eyes, the big fireworks that painted the dark, blue sky.

 

He went to Godric’s Hollow. He went to that destroyed house. He saw Harry’s scar. He knew Voldemort vanished, he knew he was gone somehow.

 

But he felt the magic around that house. That magic which burned everything down, the magic that scarred Harry Potter.

 

He felt that magic. It was supposed to be painful, full of agony and there was some in it, yes, but...

 

It was calm. The whole magic was calm.

 

Dumbledore looked up at the sky, seeing stars and fireworks and he felt the fear in him grow. It grew and grew.

 

He didn’t know, just assumed that people all over the country were holding up their glasses, saying in hushed voices: “To Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived!”

 

But Albus Dumbledore felt that calm magic and he was terrified.

 

Because

 

there was no fear in Voldemort when he died.

 

 

 


	2. He who seated on the Throne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos!! I didn't expect this many!! and thanks for the comments too! All of you are amazing! Next update will be Saturday and Sunday (Hugs and kisses)

  
**Chapter 2**

 

  
**He**

 

**who seated on the Throne**

 

 

 

Today is his birthday.  
Harry thought of this while he was in the garden. Sitting on the green grass, admiring the little golden patches that were all over the place, signing that the sun was high up in the sky. He pulled out a couple of hauls, enjoying the warm and the light breeze that caressed his dark hair. He loved to be here. In here, there was no shouting, demands or hateful eyes that burned him. He was all by himself and he loved it. He was used to it if he wanted to be honest. The Dursley’s didn’t talk to him. They endured him, made him do all the chores, sometimes looked at him but that was it.

 

Harry didn’t expect anything else. He knew why they wouldn’t even want to touch him. Why no one wanted to touch him. He felt it ever since he knew how to feel.

 

There was something in him.

 

He’s never seen it and he had no evidence but he felt it. It burned, it lurked in him and Harry was never calm. He sensed things – things that happened around him, in the air that surrounded him, emotions he couldn't quite catch. Not to mention the weird things that happened to him. He didn’t know if it was him. If he was the one who caused these incidents, but he knew one thing for sure:

 

He wasn’t human. In fact,

 

he was so much more than that.

 

It was a disturbing feeling. It made him feel something he didn’t want to feel. So every time he sensed that feeling, he locked it in himself and silently turned his head to the other direction.

 

He knew he couldn’t do this forever. There’ll be a day when he needs to open it.

 

When he opens it,

 

He knew

 

He will move the Earth.

 

 

  
**–––––––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

 

Today is the day when everything will start.   
Draco thought of this while he was looking out of the Manor’s biggest window. Seeing the sunshine on the grass, beautiful clouds swimming in the sky. He felt the disgust curl upon him.

 

_Soon, there will be nothing but rain._

 

He felt his crooked smile slowly appearing on his face and he adjusted his mask on his face. Then, he put on his white cloak and his black, leather gloves. Then he turned around and walked out of the room.

 

There were two Death Eaters. They walked behind him with fierce steps. Draco senses with his blind eye that the left Death Eater was more afraid than the one on the right.

 

Draco gave out a small smile when they turned left, heading to a big door. He stopped in front of it and one Death Eater opened for him. Draco walked in the room.

 

Everything was quiet. Every Death Eater did not dare to look at him when he stopped and stood there in the middle of the room. Golden lights shone on the young child when he put together the palm of his hands and everyone flinched violently.

 

They knew what kind of magic Draco had. They knew one move from him and everyone would be dead.

 

They knew the reason why he wore gloves.

 

Draco slowly turned his head – make them see his blind eye – and started speaking.

 

“It is time to begin.”

 

 

**–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

 

Harry noticed that everyone looked at him with awe, while he was walking down Diagon Alley with Hagrid. He noticed the people’s bright eyes, how they wanted to shake his hand but after the last minute, they changed their mind. They looked confused, gently smiling at him as they walked away.

 

They must have felt that thing.

 

Well, Harry wasn’t surprised when Hagrid told him everything. He listened quietly and looked around with his old eyes – that’s what Hagrid said about his eyes – besides the fact that it’s his mother’s.

 

Harry didn’t know how to feel about that.

 

He never really knew his parents. They seemed nice and kind – that’s what Hagrid told him about them –, but that was it. He didn’t know what to feel about the fact that his wand is Voldemort’s wand’s brother either. He didn’t tell to Hagrid.

 

It would be better to keep it a secret.

 

Hagrid kindly said to him that it’s time.

 

So during the road, Harry thought about Voldemort. The man he killed – the murderer he killed, saving the whole world. It made him feel weird. Mostly, because how can a simple child kill a powerful wizard.

 

Mostly, because when he thought about choking people, dying in blood and killing in general,

 

He felt the locked part of him purr.

 

  
**–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

  
  
Draco smiled cruelly behind his masks when he saw his father walking in his room, sitting on a chair in front of him. Lucius looked at him with severe eyes and Draco didn’t do or say anything. It was a game between them. The first who talks, the first who loses.

 

And Draco

 

Was born to win.

 

“How is your magic?” Asked Lucius and Draco looked down at his hands, his gloves. He felt the destructive black blood in them.

 

“All ready,” he said looking up, “why?”

  
His father narrowed his eyes then leaned closer to him. Draco noticed the grim eyes and he turned serious all at once.

 

“Because there’s a problem. They changed the date of the execution. It’ll be next year.” He stopped for a minute. “You know what that means.” He whispered.

 

Draco’s fingers flinched, startling his father.

 

_Of course._

 

Lucius nodded. “You need to start operation ‘Macbeth.”

 

He clenched his jaw and looked at his gloves again. His hands were black – like paint – till his elbows because of his power. Even his veins were black. He felt the power.

 

It’s time for operation ‘Macbeth.’

 

“Aunt Bellatrix,” Draco said with a harsh smile.

 

_I haven’t seen Azkaban yet anyway._

 

 

**–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

 

Harry saw the blue, wise, old wizard and he was petrified for a moment. It seemed like if those eyes saw his soul.

 

Every part of his soul.

 

Every.

 

But Albus Dumbledore only smiled at him. “Sit down, my dear boy.”

 

Harry’s eyes widened by that kind tone. No one has ever talked to him like that. His legs started walking and he sat down in front of the old wizard.

 

Then they started to talk.

 

Dumbledore told him The Prophecy. He told him what his mother has done for him. Why he had to live with the Dursley’s.

 

After some quiet minute, Harry still didn’t know what to feel. Was he angry? Was he scared? Was he sad? It felt like everything and nothing but something and it was confusing and Harry just locked all away because he didn’t want to feel so many things. He locked all away.

 

Into that hole.

 

“Why now?” Harry asked with a little voice after some time. “Why did you tell me now?”

 

The Professor’s eyes filled up with discomfort. Harry narrowed his eyes at him, sensing fear.

 

He could always sense fear.

 

“Because I think he didn’t die,” Dumbledore said. “He will come back once and you need to be ready.”

 

_To kill him._

 

That part of him purred again.

 

Harry didn’t say a word, he only waited and stared at Professor Dumbledore with his emerald eyes. Dumbledore stared back.

 

Both of them felt the change in the air.

 

“You’ll train with Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall.” Dumbledore shut down his eyes for a moment. “They will prepare you for the...”

 

_Killing._

 

_I will kill._

 

His blood froze in his veins. He was scared – he gripped his chair –, his heart was beating loudly in his throat–

 

He locked away the feeling as quickly as he could.

 

He felt the relief rush through him, like cold water, calming his every nerve. He then saw,

 

That Dumbledore was looking at him the whole time. His eyes were unreadable.

 

And Harry stared back with his glowing eyes. Not fearing of anything.

 

And he swore, in that moment he heard the purring so loudly, everything else fell silent.

 

 

**––––––––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

  
Albus Dumbledore was looking at the boy when Minerva escorted him out of the room. He thought after he talked Harry Potter, the fear in him would go away, would vanish.

 

But when he saw this little, young boy broke in front of him – just to pull himself together afterward –, he felt something in himself shatter. He ruined this child for the better good. For saving the world.

 

But that wasn’t the worst thing in this situation.

 

Dumbledore touched his face in pain and old regrets.

 

The boy had old eyes.

 

Albus Dumbledore felt a single tear running down on his cheek.

 

Those are the eyes of someone who has seen death.

 

And for a moment, feeling that calm magic

 

Dumbledore thought he was looking at Voldemort.

 

 


	3. He said, Behold I am making all things New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya my adorable–evils!! How's it going!! Thank you so much for the comments and kudos again!! I love all of you!! I'm so hyped up about this story you have no idea – especially part three – so here's the new chapter!

**Chapter 3**

 

  
**He said, Behold**

 

  
**I am making all things**

 

  
**New**

 

 

  
Harry thought his training will be intense. Like fighting – hand to hand combat, protecting his mind – Occlumency, was it? Studying spells and curses, doing exercises but he had never thought that the first thing he needed to learn.

 

Is to play the piano.

 

He sat on the piano stool, listening and looking absorbedly at Professor McGonagall. He was taking notes about music theory and the piano keys in general. He found the Professor’s speech quite understandable and he was so relieved, he almost gave out a loud sigh when she started to speak. In his muggle school, there weren’t many teachers who could actually teach or speak in a way students could give them their attention – or understand the lecture for what it’s worth. So this woman might have just saved him from a lot of–

 

“Mr. Potter!” Harry raised his head and meet the Professor’s stern gaze. After a few minute, her stare softened a bit. “Taking notes is not always the way to learn something.”

 

Harry dropped down his pencil. “It isn’t?”

 

Professor McGonagall shook her head and then walked towards to him slowly. Harry stared quietly when she touched a high note and a lower one as well, making them match and Harry felt his breath catch in his throat.

 

“Why don’t you give it a try?” She asked. “It won’t be majestic at first but that’s not why you need to learn it.”

 

Harry stopped before he laid a finger on a black one. He looked up at her.

 

“Then why I need to learn this?” He blinked.

 

The Professor stared into his emerald eyes, but she couldn’t hold it after some minutes. She stepped away from the piano, giving more space for Harry.

 

“You’ll be more good at practicing your magic.” She answered then pointed her chin the instrument. “Now, I want to hear some music, Mr. Potter!”

 

Harry saw those stern eyes and he gulped. He straightened his back and slowly touched a lower note. Then a higher one. It was not good. It couldn’t be called a music. But when Harry started to touch other notes as well – combine them, repeat them in a manner – he noticed something.

 

While he was playing.

 

His magic

 

was quiet.

 

**–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

 

Draco was looking at the soup in front of him. It looked rather good if he wanted to be honest. With those vegetables and those little chicken meats and noodles. Its smell was also great.

 

Draco wanted to eat it. He was supposed to eat it. The whole thing.

 

He also knew he couldn’t eat it. Not the whole of it. Not even the half of it.

 

The minute he grabs the spoon and takes the first taste he’ll have nausea and he didn’t know why, but after that, he couldn’t finish eating anything.

 

He knew his father’s stare was making a hole on his back.

 

But he passed the food away from him.

 

“Not a word, father.” Draco warned him because he knew – he sensed – as Lucius started to open his mouth, obviously preparing to say things like ‘you need to eat more’ or ‘you will need strength’ but honestly, Draco didn’t care. He can’t and won’t eat with this unbearable nausea.

 

So he took a glass of water to drink instead. He knew it wasn’t the same thing, but it calmed him a little bit.

 

It calmed him almost enough.

 

He gently touched his face. He liked these times when he didn’t have to wear his mask. Draco carefully touched his left eye too – he couldn’t feel anything in that area – but he knew how damaged that eye was. There was a little scar there – almost invisible – but Draco could see that very clearly. It was near to his nose, making his way – through his blind eye – till his ear. It was pale and white – like his skin. That’s why people couldn't see it very well unless they were very close.

 

Draco shut down his eyes.

 

_But they never dared to come close._

 

_They never will._

 

“You know that Mrs. Parkinson and Mr. Zabini will join you today, don’t you?”

 

Draco opened his eyes and gave out a razor smile. “How can I forget?” He said with a dull voice.

 

His two future minions, as his father said.

 

He knew two things about them – about how he can make them useful.

 

One,

 

Pansy Parkinson has spent her whole life training to be Draco’s second in command. People who are masters of martial arts taught her physically and emotionally too. His father also said that the Parkinson mistress was a couple of years older than him. Probably eleven or twelve, Draco did the math.

 

Just like Blaise Zabini who has spent his whole life training to be Draco’s copy. Otherwise known as Draco’s reinforcement. Blaise will be Draco’s doppelgänger because,

 

Blaise Zabini was a Metamorphmagus.

 

Two,

 

They have never seen Draco’s face. But he knew, one day to those two, he’ll need to show his face.

 

But that day will only ever come,

 

If they get out Auntie Bellatrix from Azkaban.

 

  
**––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

 

  
Harry felt his magic go all defensive when he saw the black–caped man.

  
Professor Snape felt and looked like a bat. Mysterious, weird and terrifying.

 

_I wonder if he’s Dracula._

 

“I’ve never thought that this would be the first thing that comes to your mind the first time you see me.” The Professor looked at him deadly serious but Harry just looked at him, confused.

 

“Sir? I didn’t say anyth–” Harry’s blood froze and his magic hugged him protectively. He understood.

 

This man was in his head.

 

Professor Snape nodded at him but his eyes never left that unreadable or severe look that pierced Harry.

 

“The Headmaster kindly put me into this situation,” he looked down at him and continued with a drawling voice, “where I need to teach you Occlumency.”

 

Harry furrowed his brows, still not intimidated by the man, just a bit uncomfortable.

 

“Isn’t that hard, sir?” He asked in a small voice.

 

Professor Snape just stared into his old eyes. His emerald–green eyes and Harry didn’t want to look away because he sensed that – and he learned to always trust his instincts – the Professor needed his eyes.

 

Even if Harry didn’t know why.

 

“The Headmaster is curious,” he started finally looking away from him, “if it’s hard for you.”

 

Harry ran a hand through his hair – trying to actually make himself calmer. His magic soothed his hands and his back.

 

“I don’t know if I'm good at these things,” Harry answered with honesty when Professor Snape looked back at him. “I’m not very good at playing on the piano or theory classes with Professor McGonagall.”

 

Harry couldn’t understand why they didn’t allow him to use magic – or even try it. He didn’t even touch his wand ever since he arrived. It felt lonely and just wrong.

 

Unfair.

 

Harry snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed, that the man looked at him for a long time and then gave him a big book. His intense gaze was burning Harry’s. It was almost like The Headmaster’s.

 

Almost.

 

“The only thing you need is to read this by the end of the week.” Professor Snape said and then waved his hands at him. “You are dismissed.”

 

Harry nodded weakly – still feeling the discomfort – while he was walking out of the room. He couldn’t get the idea out of his head.

 

That the professor’s eyes were almost as old

 

As his.

 

  
**––––––––––––––––––––––––––-**

 

 

The door opened with a loud bang and Draco just couldn’t stop smiling.

  
He nipped his leather gloves a bit, playing with them but not taking off them. He knew if he takes them off,

 

He shut down his eyes and lightly nipped again.

 

When he heard the two pair of footsteps slow down, he adjusted his mask and turned around.

 

They were older than him. He could see that.

 

Still,

 

They were kids. Just like him.

 

Draco was looking at them, silently absorbing them with his right eye and sensing them with his left eye.

 

“So you’re really blind in the left eye.”

 

Draco swore he saw Blaise Zabini froze on spot. Draco didn’t.

 

He just lazily raised his head to look at her. He turned around his head, making her see his blind eye.

 

“I am.” He said with a light voice. “But I can sense a few things with it. Feel things.”

 

“What things?” Parkinson asked with wide eyes, burning with curiosity and then without a word she sat down on a couch.

 

Before Draco could answer, he saw Zabini, who was gaping like a fish. It was pure confusion and Draco’s being did something weird. Like a feeling or what.

 

Something weird.

 

He looked down at his hands. It was familiar but he didn’t know what it was.

 

“Like guesses or possibilities.” He answered finally and raised his hand to meet Parkinson’s brown eyes.

 

They were sharp.

 

“Interesting.” She said at last and narrowed her eyes, thoughtfully. “I could use some of that in a fight.”

 

Draco sensed that Zabini was opening his mouth.

 

“We really are going to do plan ‘Macbeth?” Asked the black-skinned boy with a dark voice.

 

Draco gave out a lazy smile and he saw both of them froze. “Your parents told you, I suppose?” They nodded but then Draco spoke up again. “We will but not right now. We need to learn the Patronus spell first.”

 

“I can do it.” Stated Parkinson and smiled smugly. She stretched her hand like a cat. “My Sensei made sure that I can do it.” She winced and shuddered. “Merlin bless him.”

 

Draco looked at Blaise. “You?” He asked.

 

Blaise shook his head. “I haven’t had the time.” He stopped a minute. “Yet.”

 

Draco nodded and then pointed at a chair, signing Zabini to sat down. The boy listened to him – bowing a little – and then sat down.

 

Draco sat down as well – carefully putting his hands on the table – seeing that Parkinson and Zabini’s stare was locked on them.

 

“Before we learn it though,” Draco started. “We need to get Theodore Nott out from the Ministry’s holding cell.”

 

Zabini and Parkinson gasped loudly at the same time.

 

Draco blinked.

 

So everyone knew about his first in command.

 

“Dad told me about him.” Parkinson’s eyes were full of fear. “He’s been the only one in history, who managed to burn down the whole Level Nine at The Ministry. Also, the youngest person ever kept at The Ministry’s holding cell.”

 

Blaise’s eyes widened. “The Department of Mysteries?” His voice was shaking. “I didn’t know that. I only knew that it was a big fire.”

 

Draco raised his hand – stating the fact that:

 

“It’s always fire,” Draco said in a bored tone. “Theo is a pyromaniac.”

 

Blaise laughed. It was rather strained.

 

“So we need to get a pyromaniac.” Parkinson nodded with closed eyes. “Yes, yes, what a surprise.”

 

Zabini started nodding enthusiastically. “What a surprise.”

 

Draco held up one finger. “We need to do it next month,” then waited.

 

Parkinson and Zabini looked at each other and then at Draco.

 

“Why the hell not?” They said at the same time and Draco smiled.

 

Everything was _going_ according to plan.

 

**––––––––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

Harry touched all the high notes.

Differently, repeatedly, similarly. He touched the keys, feeling the higher, lovely sounds as they were going in his soul. It felt like a cheerful game, walking on tiptoes from high notes to low notes. He leaned back a bit, dancing his fingers on the instrument.

 

_ah,_

 

_This was–_

 

He loved the melody of it.

 

He nodded when he found the rhythm and smiled when the music floated his magic. He saw forest and foxes, his music was about tricksters and he loved the fast phased cheerful mischievous tone. He then went to the low ones. He touched them deeply, feeling as the dark games came alive – throbbing. He picked a melody on the higher keys.

 

Then with a quick end, he stopped, breathing heavily but soundlessly.

 

He stared at the piano with wide eyes, full of wonder and happiness and–

 

_Fear._

 

He sensed fear behind his back.

 

He turned around to see Professor McGonagall, looking at him, terrified. Her hands were shaking.

 

And it took some time when Harry realized why.

 

He felt his heart stop as he looked at the piano again.

 

This was his third lesson.

 

He was shaken and he paled.

 

But he played–

 

“Majestically.” He heard Professor McGonagall’s voice, as a whisper and Harry felt the tune in his fingertips.

 

In his magic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Do not be afraid, I am the First and The Last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my adorable–evils!! I hope you'll like the new chapter!! Next chapters will be on Friday and Saturday! Things get a bit dark after this so be careful ;) Love all of you and thank you for the kudos and the comments!! You can write or ask anything, I'll answer it, don't worry brothas (Hugs and kisses)

**Chapter 4**

 

  
**Do not be afraid**

 

**I am the First**

 

**and**

 

**The Last**

 

 

 

Harry read every book about Occlumency that could’ve been found at Hogwarts’s library. Every last one of them.

 

His brain was dying. Quickly.

 

But he couldn’t help himself. It was so interesting, it made him curious and he felt this– thirst. How cool is that? That someone is strong enough to protect his own mind? He wanted to do it. He wanted to impress himself. So he read every book that he could find after he finished Professor Snape’s.

 

He finished everything today. At last.

 

Without sleep.

 

Three days straight.

 

It was terrifying.

 

He yawned and stretched his arms, feeling his bones crack and he winced. _Ouch_. Well, he was sitting here quite a while now.

 

It was surprising how nobody searched for him. Well, he supposed Dumbledore must’ve known where he was. He shrugged lazily and picked up his books from his desk. He had time and he was just reading so it won’t be trouble. He hoped it won’t.

 

Besides, if Professor McGonagall didn’t allow him to play the piano anymore, what else he could do while he was here? Reading and studying theories about magic, spells, and curses? He’s already read those books. Every book on these topics he could find.

 

He sighed aloud when he put back the books on the shelves.

 

He missed the piano.

 

Three days passed after the incident when Professor McGonagall had been scared of him and then banned him from playing on the instrument. Even now, when Harry met her eyes, she turned her head to the other direction or looked away. In those times, Harry always felt something pierce through him. He thought the professor liked him, but now...

 

He wasn’t even sure if there was anyone at all who would like him.

 

Dumbledore’s eyes felt like if the old wizard were always analyzing him. Professor McGonagall didn’t even look at him out of fear and Professor Snape... well...

 

Harry wasn't sure how to feel about that man.

 

His eyes were almost like his. This caught him off guard. Harry’s never met another person – not old, neither young – who almost had the same eyes like his. Kids from his muggle school always told him how weird his eyes were – how wrong they felt like. They never dared to touch him tough. They always got scared.

 

Everyone will get scared eventually. Kids, Dumbledore and then Professor McGonagall.

 

Harry felt his heart beat in his throat as he clenched his fists. The pale, gold light from the candles shone on his skin at the dark library.

 

He bowed his head.

 

_They must’ve felt that thing._

 

He heard the purring suffocate his whole being.

 

 

**––––––––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

  
Harry straightened his back automatically when Professor Snape walked towards him, closing the door behind him. The man’s cape swept the floor as he stopped in front of him.

Harry didn’t blink, he just looked at the man. Professor Snape touched his chin thoughtfully.

 

“Have you read the book I gave you?” He asked apathetically.

 

Harry nodded and sharpened his throat. “I did, sir. Every book about Occlumency and Legilimency as well.”

 

Professor Snape looked petrified. It took some minute to pull himself together and Harry looked at him utterly confused.

 

“Professor?” He asked innocently.

 

The man sharpened his throat as well. “One could always be surprised, am I right, Mr. Potter?”

 

Harry nodded lightly and then started concentrating. “We can start, sir.” He said. “I’ve built my wall.”

 

Professor Snape sneered lightly. “We shall see.” The professor raised his wand and pointed at Harry who started building up his bricks shamelessly fast.

 

And then it happened. Harry felt it. The strong person. Who wanted to break in but Harry’s wall was hard and stood perfectly solidly and–

 

Harry’s breathing stopped.

 

_Something cracked._

 

_On the left. There was a hole in his wall. One little hole._

 

He tried to cover it, rebuild it but he couldn’t and then he felt Professor Snape walk through it.

 

and

 

He–

 

 _He saw red eyes and old hands holding a wand_ at _him – cornering him. He saw those red eyes as he was getting closer and closer and touched his forehead with the tip of his wand. The little Harry wasn’t afraid. He didn't cry – not anymore. He looked at Voldemort and touched the wand as the dark wizard_ cast _the curse – everything was green._

_And then–_

 

Everything disappeared.

 

Harry heard a loud bang and opened his eyes, seeing Professor Snape as he fell down on the ground, panting with wide eyes, full of horror. Harry looked at him fearfully, not trying to move, to say something–

 

The professor looked up at him, his body was shaking. His eyes burned Harry’s who flinched violently.

 

“What have you done to _him_?” Professor Snape asked with a quivering voice, standing up slowly. Harry winced again and hugged himself, trying to get some comfort or calmness.

 

“I don’t know.” His voice was shaking. “I didn’t see–”

 

Professor Snape moved his right hand – Harry winced again, afraid if he was going to get hit –, but the man only touched his left arm. Harry noticed a black, tattooed, snake’s head–

 

“You– your magic– I need to–” Professor Snape flew out of the room, not saying anything else, leaving there Harry who could feel his own heartbeat in his ears.

 

He ran a shaking hand through his hair and then grabbed the side of the nearest chair. He saw something when he was in Professor Snape’s mind.

 

He saw red hair. Emerald–green eyes.

 

The exact same pairs as his.

 

  
**––––––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

  
“Ate him?”

 

Severus nodded at Dumbledore with grim eyes and his still shaking body.

 

“His magic ate The Dark Lord’s,” he continued, “the magic he had cast on him, the organs, the body, the magic itself–”

 

The Headmaster gave him a cold, calculating look. “So he really has a wild-type of magic.”

 

Severus straightened his back.

 

“If he touches something, read something, his magic will eat it and contain it in his mind.” Severus stopped for a minute. “It’s like stealing.”

 

“Is that why he has old eyes, isn’t it?” Dumbledore sounded calm despite every tense line of his body conveying otherwise. “Is that why he has _his_ eyes?”

 

Severus winced. “The moment when The Dark Lord died, Mr. Potter ate – in this case, stole – his magic and drew it into himself. The Dark Lord’s body vanished from existence, along with his magic that Mr. Potter ate.”

 

Dumbledore touched his right arm, seeking reassurance and absorbed Severus for a minute.

 

“So he _did_ kill him after all.” He whispered at last.

 

Severus narrowed his eyes and adjusted his robes. “He will kill everyone if we can’t stop this.”

  
Dumbledore tiredly shut down his eyes, humming. “What are you suggesting, Severus?”

 

The man looked at him in the corner of his eyes.

 

“If he patches that hole, he’ll be an accomplished Occlumens.” Severus said in a tone that was shouting ‘I can’t believe I said that’. “And a Legilimens as well. Just because he read a lot of books on the topic. He can also play the piano on an advanced level, according to Professor McGonagall, just because he listened and touched some notes and that means he has the sharpest concentration – do you understand what I’m saying?”

 

Dumbledore was silently looking at him as Severus thoughtfully touched his face.

 

“He can learn anything.” He whispered to him. “He can eat anyone’s magic. If he learns how to use his magic, we’ll be doomed.”

 

“Not if he’s on our side,” Dumbledore said with a light voice and Severus turned his head to his direction. “We will teach him how to use his magic. He will kill Voldemort when he comes back.”

 

“But what about The Dark Lord’s heir?” Severus asked sharply.

 

Dumbledore looked at him curiously. “Did he call you?”

 

Severus touched his left arm, uncomfortable.

“Not yet.” He paused. “I’m afraid he knows that I’m a spy.”

 

Albus Dumbledore laughed.

 

“Well, that’s not a surprise.” His eyes darkened and his smile died. “To answer your question, maybe Harry is the only one who could kill him.”

 

Severus’s eyes turned grim. “They’re destined to meet the other. It’s written in The Prophecy.” He slowly shook his head. “You need to tell him about that part too in the future.”

 

Dumbledore sighed tiredly. “First things first.” The old wizard looked out of his window, seeing grey clouds. It’ll rain. “One day they’ll meet. Two kinds of wild magic users.”

 

“ _Dies Irae_ , Headmaster,” Severus said. “As Lucius Malfoy used to say.”

 

Dumbledore gave out a sad smile.

 

“Very suiting.”

 

**––––––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

  
Weeks passed after that.  
Harry read and learned the whole first year’s curriculum. He also learned a lot of sheet music by Bach, Chopin – he was his favorite – and Tchaikovsky because he won’t give up the piano. They can’t take it from him – take away that feeling, like he was flying. They can’t and they won’t. He’ll ask Professor McGonagall to allow him to play again. He’ll even beg if it’s needed.

 

He cracked his neck and sighed.

 

Professor Snape still studied with him Occlumency – and Legilimency – as well. They worked on that hole on his wall. They tried to patch it and rebuild it slowly. It took time if Harry wanted to be honest but they were making progress, he could see that.

 

More weeks passed and Harry still couldn’t use his magic and the teachers didn’t say anything to him. It was almost the end of the month when The Headmaster called Harry to his office.

 

Harry felt his nerves like fire. He hoped he didn’t do anything wrong – that they won’t make him go back to the Dursley’s because this was still a better place. Where he could read and learn and _exist_.

 

When he saw the old wizard’s blue eyes and sat on the chair in front of him he tried to be prepared for whatever that will come.

 

And then the wise-eyed man told him all about his magic. How he killed Voldemort that night, what happened when Professor Snape got into his head.

 

Harry wasn’t surprised. It made sense and after some minute he explained The Headmaster the hole in him.

 

Dumbledore looked at him with wise eyes.

 

“That must be the place where you contain everything after your magic ate it.” The Headmaster hummed. “Yes, it seems even if it’s your own feelings.” His eyes turned gentle. “Don’t do that Harry, it’s okay to be scared, sad or happy. That’s what makes us human.”

 

Harry’s eyes glowed. “Maybe I don’t want to feel some of it.”

 

Dumbledore smiled at him Kindly but reassuringly.

 

“If you don’t feel them at the moment, you’ll feel them later.” He said. “You know this too.”

 

Harry felt the words pierce his heart. He knew it yes but–

 

_I wanted you to say it’s okay._

 

Dumbledore said to keep it a secret and Harry agreed. The Headmaster also said that they will teach him things that are dangerous but very needed. Harry nodded again.

 

When Harry stood up and turned around to walk out of the room he stopped – just in front of the door.

 

“You said there are four kinds of wild magic users – always four in a lifetime, sir.” He whispered. “Which am I?”

 

It was a short pause.

 

“You are Pestilence.”

 

  
**––––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

  
“One day and we’re at the end of the month,” Aberforth said drinking his tea.

 

Dumbledore nodded at his brother, drinking his tea as well. “Time sure flies.” He let the taste of it warm his body but he seemed to be colder and colder.

 

“I feel it too, Albus.”

 

Dumbledore looked at his younger brother eyes. They were the same piercing blue as his. Wise, old and

 

mournful.

 

“The wind changed.” Aberforth looked out of the window. Big clouds hid the sun, painting everything with grey.

 

Dumbledore took a sip of his tea when Aberforth said with a grave voice:

 

“It’s going to rain.”

 

 

 

 


	5. Every eye will see Him, for He had a Pair of Scales in his hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii, my adorable–evils!! How are you? I hope you had a wonderful week and that it will also continue. I hope you'll like this new chapter because oh boy, how things will turn up from 0-100, it's mind-blowing. Well, tell me what you think, sweethearts! I love comments and I'm interested what you think about the story so far and I'll answer you as fast as I can! Love all of you! (Hugs and kisses) Next chapter will be up tomorrow ;)

**Chapter 5**

 

 

  
**Every eye will see Him,**

 

 

  
**for He had a Pair of Scales in his hand**

 

 

 

They will break out Theo tomorrow.  
This what was in his mind through the whole month. Draco had planned out the whole thing and he discussed everything with his minions and he knew that everything will go smoothly.

 

It was–

 

It seemed too easy. _It was too easy._

 

He wanted some challenge for one in his life, but no. He sighed.

 

Draco furrowed his brows behind his mask and leaned on the table with chin on his two fists.

 

He knew it will be easy. He looked down at his black, leather gloves.

 

He suddenly remembered his father’s words.

 

When he was little, he taught him everything and took care of him but Draco knew his father never loved him. Not that he ever understood love. Draco didn’t feel anything since he was born. He wasn’t capable of that. He tried but nothing ever happened.

 

He had been always curious, though.

 

So he asked him why he was acting like way. Why give him such cold stares every time their eyes would’ve met.

 

Draco remembered his father’s words:

 

_‘Your mother loved your eyes. She said that they were full of light and wisdom and you were her little, white hummingbird.’_

 

Draco still remembered Lucius hateful eyes. He remembered the disgust.

 

He remembered the last words of that sentence:

 

 _‘I know what you really are. You are white and little indeed, Draco, but you_ can’t fool _me.’_

 

Draco’s eyes darkened.

 

_‘You are the little hummingbird who’ll cut out everyone’s eyes with its long beak if they’re close enough to hear you sing.’_

 

 

**–––––––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

  
“I need to take them in.” Said Blaise with the voice that was not his own. He looked like an adult Auror that Draco’s minions caught a couple of minutes ago.

 

Draco smiled crookedly behind his mask when Blaise pointed a wand at his back. Pansy was held by another Auror who watched Blaise – Auror Richard – with an amazed look.

 

“Can’t believe you actually caught them.” The Auror said and then opened the door, escorting them to the cells. “We’re trying to get at least some of them for years...”

 

Draco wasn’t listening anymore. No.

 

He was watching.

 

As they were walking, he was looking through the cells. Noticing that there were no Death Eaters just some pitied, worthless people who’ve done something to get in here to rot. Pansy was calm and walked behind him – not so close but enough.

 

Draco knew that The Auror was looking at him – his mask. But he just walked and walked with Blaise and then he sensed it–

 

Theodore was in there. Somewhere.

 

“Why don’t you take off the mask?” The Auror asked Blaise – in this case, Auror Richard.

 

Blaise stopped and Pansy’s body stiffened but Draco,

 

Only smiled.

 

“Come closer and get it off,” Draco whispered to him kindly. He saw Theodore’s head nearly popping out from one of the cells and Draco’s crooked smile grew bigger when he noticed his first in command mischievous smile.

 

The Auror walked towards him and then stopped. Draco raised his head to make him see his left – blind eye.

 

The man paled and his eyes widened.

 

“What’s wrong, sir?” Draco’s voice was angelic and he started to loosen one of his gloves with his other hand. He felt Blaise froze behind him. “Will I need to do it myself?”

 

The Auror swallowed and then he started to stretch out his hand, to actually touch the mask–

 

Draco pulled his gloves off,

 

with his teeth

 

then touched The Auror’s hand,

 

pulling him closer

 

Until he felt his fingertips touch The Auror’s neck.

 

Draco smiled widely, warmly. He heard it, felt it, touched it–

 

The man’s organs,  
blood, bones and breathing and muscles and then–

 

He

 

devoured

 

everything.

 

He heard that Pansy was protecting his back while Blaise was shooting spells everywhere but Draco couldn’t care.

He was looking at the man’s eyes who was terrified. Draco damaged his organs, he felt how the man’s muscles started to wither, how his bones cracked and fell – into his organs and Draco let go of him, letting him fall down to the ground.

 

Then he turned around.

 

He saw that everyone who was there froze on spot. The Aurors– there were more by now – and Parkinson and Blaise–

 

Draco pulled off the other glove too and rolled up his sleeves up to his elbows – showing everyone his black–painted–veins on his arms.

 

Draco smiled crookedly at them and slowly, elegantly took a step.

 

The Aurors flinched and tried to run but Draco was faster.

 

_I will always be faster._

 

Draco touched one hand, then a neck, then a finger, then an ankle–  
it was delightful–  
beautiful–

 

He ate and ate and ate and felt that his blackened hands were covered in blood but he touched and touched and touched and damaged and damaged and withered and withered and devoured devoured and–

 

_Oh,_

 

He suddenly sensed that there–

 

_Oh,_

 

Draco looked around, seeing dead bodies – covered in blood, covered with holes, bones, and organs sticking out from most of them – and then he touched his chest and stomach.

He smiled and touched his lips, his chin–

 

_I am full._

 

_What a wonderful feeling. How I missed this._

 

“Fetch me, Nott!” Draco ordered childishly and looked for his gloves. He stepped over a lot of bodies when he found them. He put them on and then turned around to look at Parkinson and Zabini.

 

They were paler than him if that was entirely possible. Draco sensed fear.

 

He could always sense fear.

 

“I told you it’ll be easy,” Draco said with a grin and Parkinson and Zabini grew more terrified with every second.

 

Draco stepped over the bodies, walking towards Nott’s cell – leaving the utterly stunned Pansy and Blaise there – and he pulled off one glove. He smirked at his first in command, who looked only smug.

 

“How was prison, Theodore?” Draco touched some bars. They started to crumble and then fall off like dust. Then, Draco put on the glove again. “Is this the second time? Third? I’ve lost count. It’s the first time for you to actually wait till I save you, though.”

 

Theodore grinned and patted Draco’s shoulder. Draco winced – he’ll never get used to this. Theo was the only one who’s constantly touching him without reason – like high–fives and half hugs and Draco never knew why he was doing this.

 

“I really liked it. Some guys wanted me to be their buddy but I was like nah, I’m too cool for all of you.” He said and then looked around, giving out a low whistle. “Fabulous job as always. Not as beautiful as mine but you’ll get there eventually–”

 

Draco narrowed his eyes. “I see that even prison can’t shut you up, huh?”

 

Theo has been the only person that Draco could see as an equal. That was the only reason why he was letting him talk. The other one is that Theo had fiery eyes.

 

Theodore’s father tried to burn alive his son when Theo was very little. He failed because the fire didn’t harm Theodore – instead, it got into his skin, his eyes.

 

Draco’s father used to say that Theodore has been gifted by Fiendfyre. It was the only magic he could do. Fire was him and he was fire.

 

Theodore Nott has fiery eyes

and he could destroy an entire world if he wanted to.

 

“We should go,” Draco said. “Before somebody tries to think and will come here.”

 

Theo raised up his fingers, blasting up little flames, playing with them like coins.

 

“Then,” he grinned, “we’ll blow them up.”

 

Draco looked up at him – Theo was taller – and shook his head. _Pyromaniacs._

 

He pulled out a little glass–hummingbird out of his robes and then touched it. Everyone else touched it too–

 

And then they were gone.

 

  
**–––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

 

  
“You’ll be in the papers, you know.”

 

Draco the entire time was staring at the pasta in front of him with a stressed look but now he looked up at Theo, who was eating his own pasta like if his life depended on it.

 

“I know,” Draco said. “It’s okay. I wanted to start Voldemort’s...” Theo flinched. “... plan tomorrow or the day after that, so it’s okay.”

 

Theodore stopped eating for a bit, looking at his pasta with stern eyes. He always had this look whenever Draco talked about Voldemort and he couldn’t put it anywhere. When he asked about it, Theo didn’t answer.

 

“So what do you want to do?”

 

Draco pointed at his mind. “He put there a couple of places. I need to see them.”

 

Theo nodded and then slowly started eating again. Draco watched and he felt his own stomach full.

 

“Your new minions didn’t look so happy when they saw you in action.” Theodore smiled, his eyes widened comically. “I wonder how long they’ll manage.”

 

Draco felt a slow smile appear on his face. “Me too.”

 

Theo was looking at him again with those calculated eyes. Draco saw the golden–orange–bright color flames and he felt shivers and cold.

 

Then Theo finished his pasta. “Do you still play on the piano?”

 

Draco winced and clenched his fists. The leather gloves gave out an interesting sound.

 

“You know I don’t,” Draco whispered with a little anger and Theo raised up his hands, all defensive.

 

“Just asking, just asking.” He stopped and then flipped up his fingers, firing up them, looking at the flames with blown pupils, dazed eyes. “You know who will move if you end up on the papers, right?”

 

Draco shut down his eyes, feeling calm and steady. Still seeing and sensing Theo’s fire.

 

“They know what I am,” Draco said softly. “Let them come if they find the courage.”

 

Draco sensed the big grin. Sensed Theo’s amazement and excitement.

 

“That’s more like it,” Theo whispered and smothered the fire, letting the darkness fill out the whole world. “Famine.”

 

 

 

 

 


	6. A Crown was given to Him, To Conquer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii, my adorable–evils!! Thank you for the comments and the kudos they make me so happy!! Feedbacks are welcomed anytime because they keep me going! Love all of you, you are truly awesome and I hope you'll enjoy this new chapter ;) (Hugs and kisses)

**Chapter 6**

 

 

**A Crown was given to Him,**

 

 

  
**To Conquer**

 

 

  
  
Draco was drinking his tea silently and innocently when he heard the explosion. Everything moved at least an inch on the table, but Draco was as calm as always.

 

And then he heard a loud bang. Lucius walked towards him.

 

Draco smirked when he saw his father’s grumpy face.

 

“Aha!” Lucius looked around and when he saw no one else in here, he got disappointed. For why? Draco didn't know. “Where is that devil?!”

 

Draco shrugged and gave out an amused smile. “Theodore? I don’t know. Probably at the kitchen, eating everything he can probably eat–”

 

Lucius’s eyes widened. “I’m going to kill him!” He mumbled and then turned around to leave the room. “Every time he blows something up one of my peacocks gets hurt for Salazar’s–”

 

And he was gone.

 

Draco calmly watched as Theodore climbed up to the balcony, jumping down on the ground when he was safe, then walked into the room. He waved at Draco and then sat down in front of him.

 

“Hi!” Theo said looking as smug as ever. He picked up a cookie from the breakfast plate. “What’s up?”

 

Draco merely looked at him. “My father is looking for you.” Draco smiled when he saw Theo was already looking for another cookie. “Your explosions always kills one of his peacocks.”

 

Theo ate the chocolate sweet things and then grabbed a slice of cake.

 

“But I need to do this,” Theo said with brutal honesty, grabbing a fork. “Otherwise I start burning people. It’s better if it’s just buildings and peacocks.”

 

Draco couldn’t reply anything to that. “As long as it’s not me, I really don’t care.”

 

Theo laughed and then started eating the lemon cake. Draco was watching the cake, wanting to eat something like that. But he knew he couldn’t.

 

“I’d never hurt you. You’re my only friend.” Theo said and hummed with approval. Draco knew that lemon cake was Theo’s favorite.

 

“I’ll never know why you like me so much,” Draco said and took a sip of his tea.

 

Theo sent him a big smile. “I like you ‘cause you’re really cool. You have this black veins on your arms and this cool blind eye!” He gestured wildly with his fork. “I bet you’ll be even cooler when we grow up.”

 

Draco looked down at his cup. He felt his gloves touch it – felt the hard edges.

 

These times...  
_was I supposed to feel something?_

 

But he didn't know how. He didn't know what. How could he reply? What would be the right thing to say–

 

“I know Draco,” Theo said with a sad smile. Draco still didn’t feel anything. Not even when he looked at those fiery eyes. “You don’t have to say anything.”

 

Draco didn’t know what happened in that moment.

 

Was it Theo’s eyes? Was it his voice? Was it the things he said? Was it the cold wind from outside?

 

He didn’t know what happened.

 

But for a moment,

 

He wanted to say something.

 

In the end, he only took another sip of his tea.

 

But Draco Malfoy,

 

for the first time after so many quiet years,

 

wanted to say something that would destroy the silence.

 

 

**–––––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

 

Harry knew that something big happened yesterday. So big that everyone was silent throughout the whole day in front of him.

 

The adults didn’t say anything to him – as usually. So he figured he will need to take the matter into his hands. He discovered a lot of secret doors and corridors in the last month. Well, the house elves helped him but he found the most of it. He also knew that a lot of Professors will hold a meeting at Dumbledore’s office. At one hour.

 

That was the reason he was here. Behind a wall. Standing there safely and quietly. Hearing everything perfectly clearly.

 

“He started to move.” Harry heard Dumbledore’s quiet murmur.

 

“Why now?” Professor McGonagall asked with a concerned voice. “After so many years–”

 

“I don’t know but he certainly has an interesting sense of humor.” Professor Snape said curtly. “He destroyed half of the Aurors from the Ministry like it was nothing.”

 

_Who are they talking about?_

 

“Not to mention that he busted out Theodore Nott.” Professor McGonagall continued gravely.

 

_Who is Theodore Nott? What was–_

 

“Oh, that’s phenomenal! He’s gotten back his first in command.” Professor Snape said with a little venom. “He has a Fiendfyre Consumer, well that’s just absolutely–”

 

“Enough Severus,” said Professor McGonagall, “we don’t have time for this. We need to figure it out his next–”

 

“We can’t.” Professor Snape said solemnly and Harry winced by his tone. “He’s too powerful for any of us.”

 

There was silence until–

 

“No.”

 

Dumbledore spoke up with a voice made of steel.

 

“There’s someone.” He whispered thoughtfully. “Someone who could tear him apart with his bare hands.”

 

Shivers ran down on Harry’s spine.

 

Because he knew.

 

“But we need more time,” The Headmaster continued. “We need to hide him, train him somewhere else.”

 

“Where he’d be strong and mighty.” Agreed Professor McGonagall.

 

“Able to fight with other strong opponents.” Continued Professor Snape. “Able to destroy him.”

 

There was silence and Harry felt that it started to suffocate him–

 

And then Dumbledore said:

 

“We need to take Harry to Durmstrang Institute.”

 

  
**–––––––––––––––––––––**

 

  
Draco narrowed his eyes at the Gaunt Shack, at Little Hangleton.

 

It was small, dilapidated and thick with filth and Draco didn’t know what he was doing here. The place was the same that was in his mind, so that was something.

 

He just needed to take a step forward. But what was waiting for him there, exactly?

 

“Geez Draco, you paranoid bastard.” Draco rolled his eyes at Theo’s whining voice. “I’ll go in front, so you don’t need to wet yourself.”

 

Theo walked towards the Gaunt Shack with confident steps.

 

Draco wanted to hit him. “Well, go on!” Theo didn’t move, he just looked at the house. “What are you waiting for?”

 

Theo didn't say anything and Draco walked next to him.

 

“What? Scared?” Draco smiled smugly at him.

 

“I suddenly had a bad feeling about this,” Theo said earnestly but started to walk all the same. Draco followed him.

 

“I’m–going–to–blow–it–up bad feeling?” Draco asked. “Or I–need–to–make–a–run–for–it bad feeling?”

 

He saw Theo shook his head. “Like I’m–going–to–hell–after–this bad feeling.”

 

Draco chuckled and finally stepped into the old shack. “I’ll see you there–”

 

The moment his feet touched the floor he stopped.

 

Theo immediately felt it and turned around with wide eyes.

 

“What’s wrong?” He asked quietly but Draco hushed him and tilted his head a little bit right. His blind eye itched.

 

He sensed something.

 

Theo wanted to spoke up but Draco raised his hand, stopping him. Theo squinted his eyes and looked around. Draco walked towards the feeling. He passed by a lot of old, destroyed furniture. The floor creaked with every step he took but he still felt it.

 

That familiar feeling.

 

He took another step and froze. Shivers run down on his spine.

 

_That’s it._

 

And Draco pulled off one glove very carefully and crouched down.

 

“Do not move. You hear me?” Draco said quietly to Theo and he sensed that other the boy nodded.

 

Draco touched the floorboards in that area and it crumbled to dust. He saw a golden box with a lot of curses that hung above it. Draco slowly reached down with his hand. He grabbed the air– catching the curses and devouring them.

 

When he senses that there were no other curses he sighed aloud.

 

“You can move now.” He said to Theo and then pulled out the golden box. He placed it in his hand, wanting to open it–

 

“Draco watch out!”

  
  
Draco moved by pure reflex.

 

He turned around, raised his hand and caught the sharp, knife which was aiming at his face. The weapon crumbled, falling out of Draco’s hand.

 

Theo looked at him with wide eyes, full of fear.

 

“We need to get out of here,” Draco said, putting the golden box into his pocket and then starting to walk to the front door.

 

He heard a sharp sound.

 

Like a blade flying throught the air.

 

He turned around, raising his hand and stopped one with a big flinch.

 

Theo caught the other. They were sharper and bigger than the previous one.

 

“I will burn this place down, get out!” He said to Draco with a hoarse voice who only nodded and sprinted out of the Gaunt Shack.

 

That was the time when he heard it.

 

Draco swore that the whole world shuddered.

 

And when he looked back,

 

stared,

 

At the orange, red, brown, bright flames,

 

Seeing the whole shack on fire,

 

Seeing how Theo stepped out of it without any damage on his skin or his dark cape,

 

looking at the ashes and smoke in the air,

 

Sensing the golden box in his pocket. Opening it and noticing a very old ring – feeling the Horcrux magic that was in it – as it was in himself,

 

Draco truly felt,

 

that Voldemort reign has finally begun.

 

  
**––––––––––––––––––––**

 

 

“It’s for your sake, Harry,” Dumbledore said but Harry felt his eyes burn with anger.  
_It’s for you. To get vicious at killing._

 

“It’s your safety.” Dumbledore continued but Harry clenched his fists.  
_It’s for making sure you grow up like a monster._

 

“I want you to become a savior,” Dumbledore whispered with a powerful voice.  
_I want you to conquer._

 

“You need to win,” Dumbledore said gravely.  
_You need to wreck them to the point when they do not even dare to whisper your name._

 

“I’m counting on you, my dear boy.” He said at last and Harry shut down his eyes with grief.  
_You will have to move the world._

 

He was young but he understood.

 

He knew.

 

Whoever his rival was besides Voldemort...

 

_I need to win._

 

Harry opened his old, dark eyes and looked at Dumbledore who winced. Harry sensed his own magic – as it was flowing through his veins. He felt the infection, disease and–

 

He didn’t know how to start. Not yet. But one day he will learn how to use his magic,

 

and then...

 

_I’ll be ready to start a Plague._

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Who was and Is and Is to Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my adorable–evils!! Thank you for the kudos and the comments, it's honestly the best feeling ever. This chapter had to be short – according to the plot – but the next one will be much longer, I promise ;) From Part 1 this is one of my favorite chapters.

**Chapter 7**

 

 

**Who was**

 

**and Is**

 

**and**

 

**is to Come**

 

 

 

 

“Harry, I would like to introduce you Mr. Karkaroff.” Dumbledore smiled down at him. “The Headmaster of Durmstrang Institute. He’ll take you there with a portkey.”

He was a silver-haired man. Tall and thin like Dumbledore but not as old as him. When the man turned around in his chair to look at Harry, he smiled.

 

Harry raised his chin. He knew that smile. He saw it every day on Vernon.

 

He felt a bitter a taste on his tongue.

 

_Arrogance._

 

So he didn’t smile back. He just stretched out his little hand.

 

“It’s nice meeting you, sir,” Harry said and looked up at him, waiting for the other man’s hand.

  
Mr. Karkaroff’s smile vanished and he didn’t move his hand at all. Harry’s lips twitched when he felt it.

 

The fear.

 

“So you know about my wild magic, sir?” Harry asked innocently and dropped down his hand.

 

Mr. Karkaroff nodded and smiled again, but this time, it felt too forced.

“You have strange eyes, Mr. Potter.” He said in a dark voice and Harry didn’t smile, just looked down at the man’s left arm.

 

_Oh, there it is._

 

He wasn’t even surprised when he saw the black snake tattoo. After he’d seen Professor Snape’s, he took a bit of a research.

 

It was Voldemort’s symbol. His followers’.

 

Harry saw red hair and green eyes, heard a sweet voice and somehow–  
Felt something stir in him.

 

“They say my eyes look exactly like your deceased Lord’s,” Harry whispered with venom, surprising even himself with this tone.

 

Mr. Karkaroff winced so violently, Harry thought he’ll fall. He also noticed that Dumbledore didn’t say a word. He just watched him with those blue, calculating eyes and Harry’s stomach clenched.

 

“I like you, kid.”

 

Harry stared up in surprise. Mr. Karkaroff smile was wide and honest and Harry’s every instinct screamed _‘run.’_

 

“I don’t care if you don’t like me,” Mr. Karkaroff continued quietly, “I don’t care if you’ll whine or beg or cry during the training of Durmstrang.” He looked into Harry’s burning eyes. “You are our light, Mr. Potter. The only chance to defeat him once and for all. You need to save us. Do you understand?”

 

Harry half closed his eyes and raised his head.

 

“I will eat him until I choke.” Harry’s cold, raw voice made the both of them wince. “You have my promise.”

 

 

**––––––––––––––––––-–**

 

 

“Are you saying there are more Horcruxes?” Theo asked him with furrowed brows.

 

Draco nodded, scrolling the ring in his hands. “I think the pictures in my head – about those weird places – are the Horcruxes’ locations.” He stopped the ring and then placed it on the table. “I need to find them and protect them until he’s back.”

 

Theo hummed and touched the ring with the tip of his finger, but the moment he felt the jewelry, he snatched back his hand.

 

“Disgusting.” He wrinkled his nose. “I have no idea how can you touch it.”

 

Draco tensed up but then relaxed almost immediately.

 

“You know what I am.” He whispered and looked at Theo’s fiery eyes.

 

Theo just became more confused. “But – like – when I hug you I don’t feel disgusted, but,” he pointed at the little thing, “when I touch that I feel so gross, I want to puke.”

 

Draco gave out a tired sigh and enjoyed the warmth of the fireplace.

“Maybe it’s because it is just my left eye, you know.” Draco wondered. “Not my whole body, like this ring.”

 

Theo nodded thoughtfully and gazed at the ring with such an intense look, Draco thought he wanted to burn it up with his eyes.

 

“What’s going to happen, if all the Horcruxes will be here?” Theo asked and snapped his fingers, making the fire in the fireplace warmer. “Like, what’s the next step?”

 

Draco furrowed his brows in concentration.

 

“There’s this other thing too – in my head I mean.” Draco shut his eyes down trying to remember them. “I see someone but I am not sure who it is.”

 

“What’s he look like?” He heard Theo’s curious voice.

 

Draco tried harder – to bring back the image –, but it was useless so he just shrugged.

 

“I don’t know, but he’s important.” He said. “He’ll be needed when we bring back The Dark Lord.”

 

There was a loud silence until–

 

“Do you think it’s Pestilence?” Theo whispered with fear in his voice. “From The Prophecy?”

 

Draco rolled his eyes. He never understood why Theo was scared of Pestilence. When Lucius first told Draco The Prophecy, he’d found it fascinating.

 

_‘There are always four in a lifetime, Draco.’_ He remembered his father’s words. _‘They have wild magic, and each of them is different. They can be killed – it’s very rare, but they can be –, and if they are, their power will glide into the nearest powerful being.'_

 

Draco remembered telling it to Theo who was smiling the whole time.

 

_‘Draco, does that mean that if a person kills one of The Horsemen, he gets his power?’_ The six–year–old Draco nodded and little Theo’s smile was wider.

 

_‘Does that also mean if a Horseman kills an another Horseman, he gets his power and keeps his own too?’_ Draco remembered that he couldn’t answer that. According to his father, that’s never happened in history.

 

Then Draco showed Theo the cards.

 

He showed him, his card ‘Famine’. It was a man with golden eyes and white hair, holding a pair of scales in his black–painted hands, above the crumbling world. Theo liked that card, noticing how Draco’s had the same hair and the same hands.

 

Theo also adored the card for ‘War’. It was his favorite. It was a man with black eyes and a hair which was painted with blood and gold. His left hand held a golden sword, his right hand held the glowing, bleeding world. Draco felt something when he looked at War’s card. He didn’t know what it was and this frustrated him to no end, but he just couldn’t catch the feeling, it slipped out of his fingers every time he’d reach out.

 

Draco was scared of Death’s card the moment he saw it but Theo wasn’t, and that caught him off guard.

 

It was a man with closed eyes and a peaceful expression, wearing a crown on his head. It was blissful until Draco looked down at his hands.

 

The man was holding a rope, choking someone with it, hanging them, as they were smiling.

 

_‘To me, it feels like peace,’_ Theo said to him. _‘You know, they’re smiling. They finally leave this cruel world.’_

 

Draco didn’t know what to answer this. He still can’t, even now

.

When Draco showed him Pestilence’s card, Theo couldn’t even look at it. He was so scared he couldn't sleep for three months. His father couldn’t even touch the card.

 

_‘They say Pestilence is the First and the Last.’_ Lucius said. _‘No one could kill him ever since The Four Horsemen reincarnates. He always lives his life until he decides he rests down. He always kills the other Horsemen in the end. They say you can escape Death, you can win War, you can live through Famine but Pestilence only needs to find you once and when he gets to you...’_ His father shook his head. _‘You won’t make it through the day.’_

 

Pestilence’s card was different from the others.

The man on the card raised his hands to the sky – black blood was on them – as he held a golden string. A golden veil hugged his body and he had an enraged grin on his face. Draco saw two deep, emerald–green eyes and he was captivated. From that moment, he was always looking at the card, admiring everything about it.

 

_‘Why are you scared of him, Theo?’_ Draco remembered his words.

 

_‘His smile creeps me out, everything about him makes me want to hide.’_ Theo said to him with a trembling voice. He has never seen Theo so scared in his whole life. _‘But the terrifying thing is his eyes.’_

 

Draco loved Pestilence eyes. _‘Why?’_ He asked.

 

_‘They make me feel... empty, young, naive.’_

 

At first, Draco didn’t understand but then his father said:

 

_‘They say Pestilence never dies, only sleeps before he reincarnates. Some philosophers say that – at some point – Pestilence remembers every holder of his power. He has billion years of experience. That means he’s old Draco, very old. Older than you, older than War, older than Death.’_

 

Draco couldn’t wait to meet him. It was written in The Prophecy, after all.

 

That one day,

 

Famine and Pestilence will meet.

 

“I don’t know who it is,” Draco got back in the present. “Maybe it’s War, have you ever thought about that?”

 

Theo’s eyes lit up. “I hope it’s War! I can’t wait to meet War!”

 

Draco smiled lazily and then looked at the ring on the table. Orange lights reflected on the gem and Draco’s expression turned to ice cold.

 

He knew what to do next. He knew where was the other two Horcruxes. But for those, he needed Auntie Bellatrix.

 

But for Auntie Bellatrix, he needed

 

Severus Snape.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	8. When wilt Thou come for Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my adorable–evils!! Big news!! I have a beta!! I want all of you to meet Crypto. 
> 
> Crypto ( the awesome bro) accepts and socialize with my 'interesting grammar' so Crypto is badass af. I salute you, brotha!! Lots of love.
> 
> Now, I hope that all of you will like the new chapter. Thank you for the comments and the kudos!! You're awesome!! Love all of you and I send everyone a million Hugs and Kisses. 
> 
> Next update will be on Friday and Saturday. Both will be long chapters.

**Chapter 8**

  
**When wilt Thou**

 

  
**come**

 

  
**for Me**

 

 

 

  
Durmstrang made Hogwarts look ridiculous if Harry wanted to be honest.   
High mountains hugged the castle and there was a deep, dark lake behind the school. Although Harry didn’t know exactly where he was, he enjoyed the journey there with the grumpy–faced Mr. Karkaroff.

 

Speaking of the ray of sunshine–

 

Harry was waiting in The Headmaster’s office for more than an hour now and it began to twitch his nerves.

 

Why can’t he just start his training? Be done with it? Study everything he needs to and then–

 

_Then what? Go killing?_

 

Harry felt shivers ran down his spine. He felt something creep into him, a feeling, making his breathing quicker as he felt his heart pump blood, as he imagined the headless corpses–

 

He ate it.   
He locked it in himself not wanting to feel any of that ever again.

 

As the calmness swept through him, he started to wonder,

 

How long it’ll take until every emotion he’s locked there, gets out of that hole?

 

Harry sensed someone else in this room. Two people. He turned around to face them.

 

He saw Mr. Karkaroff and a kid. He was older than Harry – maybe thirteen or fourteen –, he had dark hair and eyes, Harry was reminded of a bottomless pit as he was looking at them.

 

Harry raised his head and he felt the other boy wince when he noticed his old eyes.

 

“This is Viktor Krum,” said Mr. Karkaroff. “He’s the only one who knows who you are. He’s in charge of your well being.” The man smiled widely and it didn’t reach his eyes. “He’s making sure you won’t be eaten alive.”

 

Harry half closed his eyes and gave out an amused smile.

 

_Well,_

 

_I certainly would love to see them try._

 

**––––––––––––––––––**

 

  
Harry didn’t think that everything will be this easy.   
He learned every year’s curriculum and did an excellent work with the Professors. He still couldn’t do magic – it seemed he won’t ever because he can’t do simple magic like others –, but he was perfect at theories. Mrs. Asen – a stone cold faced Witch – trained with him hand to hand combat and other martial arts. Mr. Antov trained him to become an Animagus – this would take years, but Harry still read all those books.

 

He got along with every Professor, but he guessed it was just because he was a fast learner. Because of his magic.

 

Harry trained and learned and studied with them for four months – not seeing anyone at all of his age, not even Viktor –, until today.

 

Because today he did all the exams, practical and theory – except the Animagi training – and he passed every one of them. According to Mr. Karkaroff, Viktor will come here to talk with him today at his room. So Harry waited.

 

And then the door opened and Harry sensed the other boy. He saw his red uniform and his black, fur cloak. Harry knew what this meant by now – he’s read every book about Durmstrang.

 

There were three colors based on the students’ dark power level. Black uniforms meant they were average. Blood red meant their dark magic was powerful. However, there was only one student who wore green. Dark green meant he was the most powerful of them all. Harry knew his name, but he’s never seen him.

 

Aleksandar Petrova. He was some kind of genius, apparently.

 

“Hello,” Viktor said hesitantly and Harry waved at him, signing to come in. Viktor walked towards him and sat down at the table. Harry was looking at him, waiting for him, to continue but Viktor was silent.

 

Harry sighed aloud.

 

“You don’t need to be scared of me, you know.” He said, folding his arms across his chest. “I only need to kill two guys, then I’m done.” Harry wasn’t surprised by the emptiness of his tone and that scared him a little. This made him panic so he locked away the feeling as soon as he felt it. He knew it from the bottom of his mind that this was wrong but he didn’t want to feel these things. He just didn’t.

 

He never wanted to be afraid again. Nor sad.

 

There was no use for those emotions.

 

“I know,” Viktor answered. Harry noticed his little wince. “But here’s the thing, I’m not really sure about that anymore.”

 

Harry tilted his head, confused. “What do you mean?”

 

Viktor’s eyes screamed discomfort. “The Game vill start tomorrow.” He stopped for a minute. “And The Headmaster thinks, you need to attend to it as vell.”

 

Harry felt his breathing stop.

 

“What? Is everyone mad here?” His voice trembled with anger. “They want a bloody massacre?”

 

Viktor shrugged but looked thoughtful. “It’s the perfect training for you. You’ll meet the others and you can try out your nev – things, I am thinking.”

 

Harry touched his forehead in distress, almost immediately locking away the feeling.

 

“The winner gets the green uniform, right?” Harry asked but then furrowed his brows. “Aleksandar always wins these Games, doesn’t he?”

 

Viktor narrowed his eyes but then in a matter of seconds, he relaxed.

 

“Yes, he does.” He said studying Harry. “But I’m not so sure about that nov.”

 

Harry stomach clenched and he felt the disgusting taste on his tongue. He was afraid, he didn’t want to kill, he didn’t want to, he didn’t want to, he didn’t want to–

 

He swallowed down the emotions, eating them and vanishing them to that empty place of his.

 

“If that is what’s needed for my training,” Harry said, “then I will participate.”

 

_After all, I need to kill Voldemort._

 

_and_

 

_Famine._

 

**––––––––––––––––––**

 

 

  
“Hey, Draco!” Theo shouted from the door and Draco spilled his tea all over the table.

  
He rolled his eyes and then looked at Theo. “What?” He yelled back.

 

Theo – who was walking towards him with a big smile – now stopped in a midway, vanishing his smile from his face.

 

“Why are you shouting?” Theo asked with concern and Draco wanted to hit him.

 

But instead of that, he just smiled hysterically at him. “I don’t know.” He said calmly. “I must be hearing things.”

 

Theo furrowed his brows in incomprehension and sat down next to him. “You’re weird. Go to church.”

 

Draco buried his face in his hands. “Why do you always say this to me?”

 

“I’ve heard that if you’re prayin’, God will listen to you.” He heard Theo’s innocent voice. “I always pray to him, but he never answers. Maybe it only works in Church.”

 

Draco felt his smile curl up unintentionally. “That must be it.” He looked up.

 

Theo nodded and then looked around. “You know, I’ve been wondering for a while now. Where are your little minions?”

 

Draco snapped his fingers, calling the nearest house elf to clean the mess he’d done. He remembers clearly what Blaise had told him yesterday. He’ll serve him, but only because of his power. But Parkinson, as honest as she was, said:

 

“I’ve never seen a monster like you.”

 

Theo winced so violently he almost hit the house elf as the creature was passing by him.

 

Draco gave out an empty smile. “That’s what she said.” He stopped. “Honestly, I’d think the same.”

 

“If you’re a monster, Draco... then I am an abomination.”

 

Draco felt his heart stop and he froze.

 

“Do you think that it’s normal if you burn alive your father?” Theo said and Draco shut down his eyes, trying hard to not look at the other boy. “It’s not, but sometimes people have no choice. I’m hella cool and you’re hella cool, so what’s the problem here?”

 

Draco sighed. “It’s not like it hurt me, you know I can’t–”

 

Theo touched reassuringly his shoulder and Draco flinched. “I know. But I want you to know that it’s okay to be a monster.”

 

Draco opened his eyes,“Why?” He looked up, seeing Theo’s fiery eyes and he felt petrified.

 

It was that look in them again. That look Draco could never put anywhere.

 

“Because,” Theo said with the most severe tone Draco’s ever heard of him, “you might need to hear it one day and I want you to remember that someone said it’s okay to be one.”

In that moment, something happened.

 

Something weird. It was that thing again when he first met with Blaise – when he saw him pull that hilarious face. It was similar but different. He could name it.

 

Draco felt his heart tighten with something he’s never–

 

His throat went dry.

 

_Was this–_

 

_Was it possible?_

 

_Was this–_

 

He felt his blind eye burn.

 

_Gratitude?_

 

  
**–––––––––––––––––––––**

 

  
When Harry’s name echoed in the Game’s Room center, he walked in with slow steps to the stage, joining the other fighters.

 

Everyone looked at him as he stopped, staring at the crowd. Harry only saw Viktor in the crowd, looking as distressed as ever but Harry didn’t even blink. He was the only ten years old.

 

He stood there, with a straight spine, looking at the other three fighters. He saw a black-haired, older girl with black eyes and a big scar on her face. Red uniform, Nevena Mikhan.

 

An older, Russian boy with a shaved head and brown eyes. Black Uniform. Deyan Ignatov.

 

And Harry finally saw the wearer of the green uniform. The fourteen–year–old genius. He had half blue, half green eyes with long brown hair. Aleksandar Petrova.

 

Tomorrow everything begins.

 

And The First Game have to be played

 

without wands or magic.

 

  
**––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

 

“My Prince,” Severus started, “you’re not trying hard enough.”

 

Draco adjusted his mask and then looked at Theo who was laughing at him. Draco wanted to hit him.

 

Maybe one day he’ll actually do this promise.

 

Draco looked up at Severus and squinted his eyes at him. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” He pointed at Blaise. “Why does it work for him?”

 

Blaise was playing with his vulture patronus with a big smile on his face, but as soon as he noticed that Draco was looking at him, he stopped.

 

Draco only looked at him.

 

Blaise suddenly pointed at Theo.

 

“He wanted me to play with my patronus!” He said and Theo raised his hands in defense.

 

“He’s lying,” he said shamelessly and Draco smirked at him.

 

“Really, Theodore?” He teased him. “Is that all you’ve got?”

 

Theo snorted and shook his head and then looked at Blaise with concerned eyes.

 

“You should go to Church, Zabini.”

 

Draco looked up at the ceiling with a tired sigh. “What does that mean?”

 

“Why?” Blaise asked with a confused voice. Theo’s eyes just became more worried and Draco didn’t know what to do. Laugh in pain or cry in pain?

 

“Cause’ you look pale,” Theo said with brutal honesty. “You should pray more, I’m telling ya.”

 

Blaise looked utterly bewildered. He studied himself and the poor boy became more confused.

 

Draco just sighed and looked at Severus, who was squinting at the scene in front of him and he looked the most confused of them all.

 

“What should I do?” Draco asked him, looking down at his hands. “You are the only Death Eater who can cast a Patronus charm.”

 

“I have an intense feeling in my happy memories when I cast it.” He said with a deep voice. “That is the only reason, My Prince.”

 

Draco looked down and started to think. Happy memories. He searched and searched even after Severus was gone, even after he laid awake on his bed, even when he saw the sun wake up.

 

Draco desperately tried to think about something happy. He didn’t remember the feeling of happiness, he didn’t know what kind of memory he had to choose. He couldn’t understand, he just couldn’t see it. He didn’t understand what was the feeling that put genuine smiles on people’s faces.

 

Draco felt his left eye burn.

 

It was burning ever since Theo said to him those words. Draco knew he was cold and empty. He knew he never had a truly happy memory.

 

But his stone heart still clenched at the thought of a Patronus.

 

And after so many silence in his soul,

 

Draco Malfoy was desperately wanted to know how it feels to smile.

 

 


	9. To receive Glory, Honour and Power, Comes with a price

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiyya adorable–evils!! Sorry for being late – I've written the chapter a bit late than usual, so sorry. Well, anyway, I hope you'll like it and the next chapter will be up today or tomorrow. Extra thanks for my beta Crypto, my bro–sweetheart. Comments making me very very happy so If you want to ask something or say, go ahead I'll reply do not worry. Love all of you!

**Chapter 9**

  
  


**To receive Glory**

 

**Honour**

 

**and**

 

**Power,**

 

**Comes with a price**

  
  
  
  
  


“They say there are two deaths during The First Game,” Harry said calmly. “Is this true?”

 

Viktor hummed and furrowed his brows in concentration. “Nobody knows vot that means, exactly. It has always been one death.” He started playing with the fur of his cloak. 

 

Harry thoughtfully touched his chin and shut down his eyes, trying to clear his mind. If he doesn’t kill, he’ll be killed. If he doesn’t win The Game, no one will respect him. Or Mr. Karkaroff will think that he’s not prepared, not ready. If that will be the case he’ll never learn anything in time. He’ll never kill Voldemort when he comes back. 

 

He can’t let these things to happen. 

 

Harry opened his eyes, “What do you know about the other fighters?”

 

Viktor snorted and gave out a dry smile, still not quite looking at him. “They vill eat you the moment you don’t focus.” He said. “Especially Nevena, that girl is a monster. Seen Aleksandar’s half–coloured eyes? They’re from her. And Nevena’s scar? It’s from Aleksandar. They have history.”

 

Harry’s eyes widened, “What do you mean?”

 

Viktor shook his head with a kind smile – like if he was remembering something nostalgic.

 

“A big fight, there vos.” He said, “No one can remember how it started but it vos big. Nevena ruined his eyes to the point that he needs to vear contact lenses.”

 

Harry raised one eyebrow, “Impressive.” His voice was cheerful.

 

Viktor nodded. “It is.” he stopped for a minute, “So be careful vith her. Aleksandar is a lunatic – but he can be killed. Nevena is a whole different thing.”

 

Harry squinted his eyes. “And Deyan? What about him?”

 

Viktor got unusually quiet this time. Harry saw him looking at the floor – showing unmistakable vulnerability. 

 

“Viktor?” Harry pressed him, waiting. 

 

Viktor looked guilty as hell. “Deyan is... different.” Harry waited for more but he didn’t give him anything else.

 

When the clock struck midnight Harry was still awake in his room, pacing forth and back. He was scared at first but he locked the feeling. He started to become sad and tired but he locked those too and every last minute he could sense that his chest was getting heavier and heavier and he knew that he couldn’t do this any longer.

 

But it was so much easier. So much quicker than feeling anything at all. 

 

When he finally went to sleep, he dreamed of a red-haired woman with green eyes. She sang to Harry. Her voice was sweet and it was full of melody. 

 

Harry touched her red hair with his small hands and looked into the emerald–green eyes. He felt a large feeling choke him. It stirred his body and warmed it like nothing else. 

 

Harry knew what this feeling was. 

 

He knew this when he smiled at his mother, he knew this when he listened to her beautiful voice, he knew this when he realized that this was the first time when he has felt happiness.

 

And when the stars crumble and the sun tore up the early morning sky, Harry promised to himself:

 

As long as he remembers his memory of his mother – of her voice and eyes –, he won’t be afraid. 

 

One day, Harry Potter will kill one of the darkest wizards in history. He’ll need to kill, to torture, to break, to tear, to 

 

_ win.  _

 

And he. will. not. be. afraid. 

  
  


**––––––––––––––––––––––––**

  
  


 

“Nevena Mikhan and Harry Potter!” A loud voice echoed through the Game’s Room and Harry straightened his spine and started to walk to the middle of the open-spaced gladiator arena when he heard thousands of voices shout, cheer and scream. 

 

The cold wind dragged and waved his grey, neutral colored fur–cloak and his black messy hair. Harry heard the loud, echoing drums, as he saw the snow painting the world white, the icy snow crunching under his boots.

 

He adjusted his grey gloves and took a deep breath through his nose, feeling as the cold air swept through him.

 

He saw his rival’s ebony hair dancing in the wind.

 

Nevena looked like a living demon. Her scar became deeper and longer as a smile cracked across her face.

 

They both stopped, facing each other. The snow fell on them and suddenly everything went quiet.

 

Harry could only hear the wind howling and he could only see Nevena’s wide, violent smile.

 

And

 

he 

 

still felt

 

calm.

 

_ I need to win.  _

 

_ I am  _

 

_ their _

 

_ last chance. _

 

“BEGIN!” 

 

Nevena vanished.

 

Harry couldn’t even blink or move. It was silent and he was deaf and–

 

_ behind me.  _

 

He turned around just to catch Nevena’s dagger in front of his face. 

 

The crowd sighed disappointedly. 

 

“Not bad, pretty–boy.” She purred and raised her other arm, dagger in hand. Harry narrowed his eyes – already feeling, sensing his blood pump everywhere in himself – and turned around sharply, dodging the dagger. Then dived left – backing away – already feeling the other dagger nearby his back–

 

_ Crack. _

 

He screamed in agony and trembled and his throat burnt and he

 

touched the dagger 

 

that was in 

 

his back.

 

And

 

something snapped

 

in him

 

at last.

 

The crowd cheered and clapped for Nevena but all Harry could see was black. Black blood was on his hands, on the dagger and he felt the rush of coldness in himself, the venom – all that wrath and anger he didn’t know he had – and the diseases, his black blood spilled on the white snow–

 

His old eyes glowed like salvation.

 

_ I  _

 

_ was _

 

_ not _

 

_ made _

 

_ for _

 

_ bleeding. _

 

He growled.

 

He grabbed the dagger and pulled it out with a quivering shout 

 

that silenced 

 

everyone.

 

Harry spat on the floor and felt that his black blood started to heal his wound. He looked at the dagger and then turned around his head, raising his chin, looking down his nose at her.

 

His old eyes burnt with venom.

 

She looked petrified. 

 

“It was your spine.” She whispered and flinched. She took a step back when Harry started to walk towards her. “You should be dead. It was your spine...”

 

Harry saw his precious black blood everywhere. On the dagger, on himself, on  _ her. _ He could smell his  _ scent. _

 

He felt a wide, enraged grin on his face.

 

_ She dared _

 

_ to _

 

_ spill  _

 

_ his  _

 

_ blood. _

 

_ His  _

 

_ power. _

 

Harry was in front of her in a blink of an eye, still grinning, seeing her terrified eyes. 

 

It calmed down his soul. 

 

It 

 

was 

 

like 

 

coming 

 

home.

 

“You should’ve been aimed,” Harry whispered with cold fury, “for my heart.”

 

And then, with a sharp, quick movement

 

he 

 

cut

 

off 

 

her 

 

head.

 

And after a couple of minutes, after the silence, when Harry heard the screaming crowd, chanting his name all over and over and over and over and over again and again and again and again and again and again–

 

He touched his neck with his black hands, starting to peel his skin off with his nails. His body was filled with strong, wrathful emotions, that has finally come out of the hole of his soul.

 

And he imagined his hands at their throats,

 

choking them,

 

silencing them,

 

forever.

  
  


**–––––––––––––––––––––––**

  
  


 

Harry sat down on the piano stool in his room. Mr. Karkaroff gave it to him as a gift because of his victory in the First Game. Harry didn’t talk to anybody since the fight.

 

He touched a deep, low note with his bloody hands. Black and red. His and Nevena’s. 

 

Harry started to play the sorrowful piece. He played it slowly, not caring about anything. He felt as his fingertips touched every each of the keys, calming him. He went to the higher ones then. He remembered his mother’s smile, her bitter but lovely song that she had sung to him.

 

He poured it into the keys. 

 

Harry caressed the notes, letting them make him lighter, letting them make him forget that fury, that grin, her head–

 

Harry took a deep breath and let his soul play the piece. He slowed it down and tried to think about his mom. Her love for him, her red hair–

 

_ Think about her, think about her– _

 

Harry’s music felt louder and louder even to his ears so he tried to play it with a bit lightness, cheerfulness. His hands danced there – painting the white keys black and red and–

 

_ Think about mom, think about mom– _

 

Harry pressed the keys harder, demanding for louder sounds, more stronger echoes–

 

Asking for more and more and he played faster, begging not to end. He danced through the higher keys and then the lower keys. 

 

Then stopped for a minute.

 

Then began again, slowly. 

 

He wanted to be gentle with the low and high notes. 

 

He pounded them with wrath – bitterly, demandingly – begging, asking to heal him, to give someone who would be here for him, to get back his mother.

 

Then he ended everything with a low note, that echoed through his spine.

 

Harry still felt his fury. His whole being was shaking. He looked at the piano keys, red and black.

 

He sat there

 

suffocated with his own loneliness, feeling completely empty.

 

And this time,

 

he couldn’t

 

lock 

 

it 

 

up.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's music: 
> 
> 'Chopin –Ballade No. 1 in G Minor, Op. 23'


	10. All who are victorious will be clothed in white

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiyya bros!! Thank you for the kudos and the comments, they make me so happy!! You are the best! The end is so near I can smell it my adorable–evils!! Can't wait until the last chapter, the finale. Until then, here's the new chapter ;) Hope you'll like it.
> 
> PS: It had to be short according to the plot so sorry Xd the next two will be longer.

**Chapter 10**

**All who are victorious**

 

  
**will be clothed**

 

  
**in**

 

  
**white**

 

 

As Draco was stepping up and up on the stairs of Azkaban, he tried not to think about how high was the chance that his plan would fail. He especially tried not to think about how hard will be to bust out Auntie Bellatrix if the dementors will find them. The cold winds and snow caressed his white cape and fell on his mask. Blaise was walking behind him – also with a mask – wand in his hand, ready to conjure a patronus if it was needed but Draco realized that it wasn’t.

 

When they arrived, three dementors stopped in front of Draco and bowed to him immediately. Blaise stopped in shock and Draco couldn't even move for a moment.

 

Then the dementors moved out of his way and Draco hesitantly continued climbing the stairs. He knew they were watching him and Blaise, but they did not dare to come near.

 

“Why didn’t they attack us?” Blaise shouted through the wind. “Soul eating and all that?”

 

Draco just walked and walked, not looking down but he bet that they were almost on the fourth floor now.

 

“I don’t know,” he shouted back and then looked into the cells. He saw a couple of old people he didn’t know. He fastened his steps, hearing that Blaise followed him closely–

 

Draco stopped. He felt Blaise almost bump into him.

 

His blind eye twitched and he slowly turned his head to his left. It was a dark cell, with a quiet person.

 

Draco’s fingers flinched and he touched the bars, leaning closer and closer. His blind eye burnt and Draco felt that he needs to–

 

“Come here!” Draco whispered coldly, “I’m going to let you out.”

 

He heard footsteps. Slow ones, hesitating ones. Then, when the prisoner reached the light, Draco saw an adult man.

 

He had a pale, sunken face with long matted hair and yellow teeth. He had been here some quite a time now.

 

“Who are you?” The man said in a raspy voice. Draco felt his left eye narrow – leaving the right eye wide.

 

The man flinched, took a step back. Draco smiled at him reassuringly.

 

“Sorry,” he said, “it’s just– I have a very strong feeling that I need to let you out.” He pulled off one of his gloves and touched the bars, feeling and seeing as it crumbled down, leaving a big hole.

 

The man was petrified but he started to walk out all the same. Draco pulled on the glove again and looked up at the man.

 

He had grey eyes. Draco ironically found it familiar, but he didn’t know from where.

 

“Thank you. I suppose I owe you one, huh?” The man said. He still eyed Draco with curiosity and alarm. “What’s my savior’s name?”

 

Draco’s smiled loosened a bit.

 

_I will never be a savior._

 

“I will tell you once. I promise.” Draco said, touching his blind eye.

 

The man’s stare was intense but then he smiled and reached out his hand. Draco looked down at it and flinched.

 

Draco looked at his gloves and swallowed. He accepted the man’s hand and shook it but let go immediately.

 

When the prisoner turned around, starting to walk away, Draco felt an intense burn in his eye and–

 

“Wait!”

 

The man stopped and turned around with surprised eyes. “Yes?”

 

Draco – without a second thought – pulled out one strand of white hair and gave it to the man. The prisoner looked at the white thing with confusion.

 

“You can walk out with it without fearing of the dementors.” Draco said and he didn’t know how or from where he had known this. It just seemed right – this was what his blind eye suggested him do.

 

The man laughed. “If you say so. So many insane things have happened today already.” He smiled and shrugged. “What could go wrong?”

 

Draco politely smiled back and turned around with Blaise, starting to look for Auntie Bellatrix when he heard the raspy voice again:

 

“Sirius Black,” the prisoner said. “That’s my name.”

 

Draco stopped but didn’t turn around. He felt the snow change and dance and fly in the wind and he felt in his bones, in his blind eye that he needs to remember this name.

 

He will meet again with this name.

 

“Until we see each other again,” Draco whispered, “Sirius Black.”

 

And then they both started to walk, continuing their on their road.

 

 

**––––––––––––––––––––––––**

 

 

Auntie Bellatrix hadn’t change a bit.

 

Draco thought of this while he was sitting in the Manor, in the kitchen, at the table, with his aunt, who was eating the beef and stew like a starved animal.

 

Draco also thought that the bath and the fresh, warm clothes made her a bit happier as well.

 

“Bella, behave!” Lucius said in a bored tone. He sat in front of Draco, the other side of the table.

 

Auntie didn't stop a bit. “You don’t appreciate food, brother–in–law,” She said, at last, taking a little break. She looked at Draco with a gentle smile. “How’s my favorite little man?”

 

Draco smiled back with fondness, a little forced, “I’m doing alright. Better than you at least.”

 

Auntie laughed with warmth. In these moments, Draco completely forgot that she was insane.

 

“Yes, I noticed how striking you have grown,” She said and leaned forward, wanting to ruffle Draco’s white hair, but then she stopped. Auntie looked at her fingertips, “Sorry, darling. My fingers are soaking in stew.”

 

Draco laughed and leaned back in his chair, “That’s okay. Later then.”

 

Lucius sighed tiredly, sitting up straighter, “If this is what has been left of you, Bella, then I am deeply disappointed.”

 

Auntie grinned, “Careful, Lucius. One might think you actually care.”

 

Lucius sighed again and buried his face in his hands. Draco shook his head with disapproval and then looked at Auntie again.

 

She was eating the chicken now. Draco gave out a little smile and sighed.

 

“Where’s your bestie?” Auntie Bellatrix asked with warm eyes. Draco didn’t smile.

 

“You know that Theo doesn’t like you,” Draco said solemnly.

 

Auntie groaned with happiness when she started eating the cake.

 

“I have no idea why that is.” She said and continued eating the cake.

 

Her black curls were wild as ever, he noticed.

 

“It’s frightening how your hair still looks exactly the same way,” Draco said.

 

Auntie froze, her eyes widened and dropped the fork on the table. She turned sharply at Draco.

 

“I have to give it to you!” She said urgently and touched her hair, behind her ear. She pulled out a hair – pulling off a little ribbon from it – and gave it to Draco.

 

The ribbon turned into a silvery–

 

“A memory?” Draco whispered and leaned forward, looking it way more closely.

 

“The Dark Lord said that when you turn ten, I need to give it to you.” Auntie Bellatrix said. “He said you need to see something.”

 

Draco looked up with silver eyes.

 

“What?”

 

Auntie smiled. It was that sick smile, that made even Draco lean back a bit.

 

“A plan.” She said. “A longer plan for ‘Macbeth.”  


 

 

 

 

 


	11. He will lead them to Springs of living Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, bros!! Are you ready? Two more chapter to go and then we have a finale!! I am so excited!!! Thank you for the kudos and the comments, you are too awesome as always! Lots of love!!
> 
> Special thanks to my bro–sweetheart Crypto!! Love ya brotha!

**Chapter 11**

  
  


**He will lead them**

 

**to**

 

**Springs of living**

 

**Water**

  
  
  
  


 

They say Deyan ripped apart Aleksandar. For Harry, it was forbidden to see the others’ fight but Viktor told him after yesterday.

 

Deyan Ignatov ripped apart Aleksandar Petrova and Harry did not feel anything. 

 

Viktor was right, there were two deaths in The First Game. One was Nevena. 

 

One was him.

 

He didn’t sleep, that much he noticed. He just sat there, on the piano stool. Sometimes touched a key – a high one or a low one – and rested there his hands. They were still bloody. He didn’t sleep or eat anything at all after the fight. 

 

When he started to relax, he saw Nevena’s head. Sometimes Harry didn’t cut the whole of it – sometimes just the half of her head. Sometimes Harry didn’t even cut off anything, just gave her a quick death. 

 

Sometimes Nevena killed him. Sometimes  _ she _ cut off  _ his _ head. 

 

_ Maybe that would have been the best. _

 

“You are silent,” Viktor said behind him. 

 

Harry didn’t even wince – he knew that he was behind him. He just didn’t know how long he has sat there.

 

“I am angry,” Harry said quietly and it was the truth. The freezing–cold rage has been in him since he won. He only could feel that and this... choking sadness– that he couldn’t lock away anymore. 

 

Harry touched the lowest note and felt Viktor’s sharp eyes on him.

 

“Why angry?” He asked and Harry pressed the lowest key again. Then he half turned and touched the highest one and echoed them together. 

 

“Because I don’t think that I can do this and still remain sane,” Harry said, pressing the two notes during every word. “All I can see is her head and she was just the first. They’ll be more and I am not sure how I will...”

 

He moved his hands to the middle then, resting them, gently touching a black one, feeling as it pierced his anger.

 

It was a long silence. But Harry knew that Viktor wasn’t afraid of him. 

 

Maybe surprised – maybe that was it. 

 

“Ve need leader,” Viktor said and Harry touched one low note. “Vithout you–”

 

“All of you will die, I know,” Harry said directly and started tiptoeing through the keys, slowly, elegantly. 

 

“Famine freed Bellatrix Lestrange and Sirius Black from Azkaban,” said Viktor earnestly but Harry kept playing. “He destroyed the bars, passed through the dementors, it vos nothing for him. And no one has seen him yet – ve just know his work. His magic, Ja?” Harry didn’t answer, he kept playing. “He’s poverful. Vo kill him if not you?”

 

Harry stopped playing with an angry sound. “Maybe I just leave it for War. What do you think? Or Death? Screw The Prophecy.” He pressed four low notes and three high ones. He danced his fingertips along them.

 

Viktor snorted. 

 

“You really don’t knov about The Horsemen. Var can’t kill Famine.”

 

Harry stopped for a minute. “Why do you think that?”

 

There was a big silence. 

 

“My Grandfather vos killed by Grindelwald,” Viktor said gravelly. “He studied The Four Horsemen – believed Grindelwald vos one.”

 

“Was he one?” Harry asked, curiously because he never wanted to hear about The Horsemen but now–

 

“No,” he said, “he vos human. The vorst kind of.” There was a pause. “Vell, Grandpa still searched and read about them. History says Var can’t kill Famine. Var usually is on his side.”

 

Harry furrowed his brows, confused. “Didn’t we have to kill each other? In order to reincarnate?”

 

“The Horsemen lives big... length–” Viktor started to panic.

 

Harry was more confused. “Big le – you mean long life?” He touched a low note.

 

Viktor sighed out in relief. 

 

“Ja.” He stopped for a moment, hesitant. “But usually, you are the one vo kills them.”

 

Harry froze. His hands dropped on the piano keys – giving out a broken, weird sound. 

 

“Why?” He asked and finally turned around to face Viktor. The fourteen–year–old boy looked sheepish.

 

“They say Pestilence is the First and the Last.” Viktor hummed. “They say you never die, too. Just sleep, before reincarnate.”

 

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Just me?” Viktor nodded. “Why?”

 

Viktor shrugged. “No one knovs.” He observed him. “Maybe vhen you get back your memories, ve vill kno–”

 

“My memories?” His eyebrows rose and Harry was lost as ever.

 

Viktor tilted his head in incomprehension. 

 

“Grandpa and other people think, Pestilence remembers his lives.”

 

Harry knees almost gave him away. “Lives? Like early ones? Every one of them? Just me?”

 

Viktor nodded and thoughtfully touched his chin. “Fascinating, no? Ve’ll see if true.” He shrugged.

 

Harry clenched his jaw. “And Death? What abut him?”

 

Viktor glanced at the piano, at the black and red bloodied keys. 

 

“According to history, Death is on your side.” He said. “You always do vork... each other...” 

 

Harry furrowed his brows. “Together you mean? We fight side by side?” Viktor nodded enthusiastically. “That’s interesting.”

 

Viktor looked thoughtful. “I am thinking not. Sickness alvays ends with death.”

 

Harry blinked, surprised. It made sense. “Yeah.” His face went blank. “But then what about Famine? Starvation ends with death too. Why are all of us enemies? Why Famine is my enemy?”

 

Viktor shrugged and squinted his eyes, looking very focused.

 

“Vo knovs?” He stood up. “You need to kill him anyvay, no?”

 

Harry’s blood freeze. He heard the lowest note in his head and the purr in his soul at the same time. He didn't know what was scarier.

 

That it matched.

 

Or that it sounded glorious. 

 

“I will not be balanced if I kill more.” He said quietly, glancing at him. “I just know.”

 

Viktor adjusted his cloak and then turned around, walking towards the door. 

 

“Then don’t be.” He said. “Ve need leader, yes, but ve need a killer more.” 

 

Harry’s eyes flashed,

 

and when Viktor almost reached the door, he spoke up:

 

“I didn’t say that I will kill again.”

 

Viktor stopped, touching the door frame, leaning on it lightly. Harry saw his back, his body, tense up.

 

“I vatched your match,” he said in a severe voice and started walking. “Ve both know you liked the taste too much.”

  
  
  
  


**–––––––––––––––––––––––**

  
  
  


 

“Harry Potter and Deyan Ignatov!” Shouted the voice and the crowd went insane.

Harry only looked forward, walking to the middle, already seeing his opponent through the cold falling snow. 

 

Deyan Ignatov had quite a dangerous aura. His shave head and his narrowed–brown eyes looked like molten rock and dirt, but sharp as a knife.

 

Harry stopped in front of him. 

 

He felt the strong breeze caress his eyelashes and dance his furred cloaked. Deyan looked at him coldly, without emotion.

 

Harry took a deep breath, leaning forward a bit and–

 

_ ‘...those who escaped from that pit...’ _

 

Harry’s breath caught in his throat as the blurry vision appeared in front of him –

 

He was looking at a sky–blue-eyed man with dark hair, he was unrecognizable–

 

_ ‘...nothing much bothers them after that, Pestilence...’ _

 

“BEGIN!”

 

Harry flinched and looked around, waiting for the attack to come but then–

 

He heard the howl.

 

And when he turned his head to his right, he saw 

 

a big beast.

 

A 

 

deep–brown 

 

wolf

 

with

 

red 

 

eyes.

 

He was almost as big as Harry. He saw Deyan in those eyes – he saw that cold elegance. 

 

The crowd screamed and cheered and whistled, making a deafening hurricane full of sounds but when the wolf’s mouth lengthened in a sharp grin, sticking out his tongue, showing off his sharp, razor fangs, Harry only heard, only see him.

 

The beast was coming to him slowly, calmly, he leaned down his head and his red eyes burnt a hole in Harry’s skull.

 

_ They say Deyan ripped apart Aleksandar. _

 

Harry felt his heart skip a beat as he was circling around the wolf.

 

He knew his wand lied in his pocket – but he also knew that after his fight with Nevena, he couldn’t use it anymore. He didn’t know why he put it there in the first place.

 

He didn’t know why he couldn’t use the wand like every other person. 

 

Harry also knew, that there was no way that he could fight with a wolf. He also knew that his black blood can heal him – but how many times? How many wounds? How quickly if there are too many injuries? 

 

A growl made his hair stand up on his neck. 

 

Deyan stopped but Harry just circled around him, not stopping at all. The cheers and angry screams hurt his ears and he tried not to concentrate them.

 

The wolf red eyes then made him stop. 

 

Deyan

 

started

 

running

 

towards

 

him.

 

Harry’s mind went blank. He couldn’t even move, he stood numb, only looking at the red eyes–

 

He 

 

then

 

felt 

 

the 

 

fangs

 

in 

 

his 

 

neck.

 

That choking – excruciating pain – feeling his own raw flesh – as Deyan was biting it, made Harry fall on the ground and writhe.

 

He heard the crow cheering screams and yells.

 

Harry touched his throat, feeling as his blood was spilling out, painting the snow. He couldn’t breathe, he wanted to throw up but only blood was coming out of his mouth – his throat. 

 

Harry crawled further and further away from the wolf, giving out whimpers and choking sounds. Suddenly everything fell silent. Harry was peaceful and coughed and groaned in pain – he was looking at the wolf’s red eyes and–

 

The wolf’s 

 

bloody

 

fangs and mouth.  

 

His black blood

 

was

 

dropping

 

from Deyan’s

 

jaw.

 

Harry felt his emerald eyes glow up. 

 

He started to heal.

 

For he

 

_ was _

 

_ not _

 

_ made _

 

_ for  _

 

_ bleeding. _

 

He tried to get up but fell down again. Choking on his black blood, Harry brushed his shaking fingertips through his throat, sensing a big hole. 

 

His black blood. Harry’s eyes widened.

 

He froze.

 

He realized–

 

_ Poison _

 

_ disease _

 

_ infection _

 

_ plague. _

 

_ I was not made for bleeding. _

 

He saw his blood

 

turning

 

into 

 

tar.

 

And in that moment he swore

 

he

 

was 

 

reborn.

 

He looked up at the red–eyed wolf – hearing the applause, the loud drums, seeing the snow which covered the beast’s fur, and Harry's hair and skin full of black blood and–

 

He

 

raised 

 

his

 

black–bloody

 

hand

 

towards

 

the 

 

wolf

 

and

 

started

 

to

 

boil

 

up

 

Deyan’s

 

blood.

 

The crowd fell silent.

 

The wolf howled in pain and twisted his body around and Harry clenched his fist making the beast writhe more and more, howling and growling and–

 

He

 

felt 

 

Deyan’s

 

heart

 

pump 

 

in

 

his

 

blood.

 

Harry squeezed it, earning a loud whimper, as he was watching the wolf squirm in agony, feeling his power, his magic, the loud purring in his ear, the drum, the crowd screamed he–

 

_ What will I accomplish by killing him?  _

 

Harry felt his arm wince a bit.

 

_ They know I’m powerful. They saw it when I was fighting with Nevena. _

 

Harry saw Deyan’s body, seeing his torment, his red blood in the snow, the loud voices through the drums–

 

_ “...Ve need leader...” _

 

Harry’s eyes widened.

 

_ “...I want you to conquer...” _

 

Harry flinched.

 

_ “...You are our light...” _

 

And then he–

 

_ “...You need to win...” _

 

He opened his palms and ended it with a wave of a hand. 

 

Everything fell silent and only the wind could be heard in the floating, dancing snow.

 

Deyan was whimpering and licking his wounds and sitting down with weak movements. 

 

Harry looked down at his hands – the black blood. Then looked at the furry wolf and the painted, red blood snow. 

 

That was when Harry heard it.

 

His name

 

over 

 

and 

 

over

 

again.

 

The crowd was chanting it

 

With–

 

_ respect. _

 

And then

 

Harry Potter

 

raised his head

 

Looking at everyone 

 

In the crowd

 

hearing the drums

 

match with his name

 

feeling how someone put on the deep–green cloak on his shoulders. The snow lifted up in the wind.

 

And when all of the pupils of Durmstrang started to bow in front of him – seeing how the deep–brown wolf, Deyan, bowed his head to Harry with respect and gratitude.

 

As he felt the snow paint him with glory and halos, feeling the tears ran down on his face – finally letting out his emotions,

 

Harry remembered Albus Dumbledore’s words, like a promise.

 

_ “...You will have to move the world...” _

 

 

 


	12. The  One who Conquers Will have This Heritage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THIS PLEASE!!
> 
> Well, my adorable–evils, we got to the end of part one. For those who don't know, there will be four or five parts and this was the shortest one. 
> 
> To be honest Part I was kind of a Prologue. The real story will begin in Part II. I hope you enjoyed it and I am so excited about Part II!! You have no idea!! 
> 
> Part II will arrive on next week ( I have to outline it detailedly) and I also got you guys a surprise one-shot story for Valentine's Day.
> 
> I want to thank:
> 
> Crypto [first of all]: who is an amazing Beta. Crypto understands me and gets my hunches that I foreshadow. Crypto is a real treasure, so thank you my bro–sweetheart. You are the best!!
> 
> I also want to thank:
> 
> peachyrose: I love you so much. You are the one who always commented and it means the world to me. I don't really know what you guys think about my work if you won't tell me. But you are the one who always hypes with me and it feels so good. I want to write the next installment of the series for you. You gave me so much. 
> 
> Serilla: I think you always be my special one. You are the first who commented again and you read every each of my story. Thank you for everything.
> 
> draco–trash (Jinsecure): You are one of my demons. Thank you for appearing again, it gives my soul such a joy. Without you – all of you – I'd be nothing.
> 
> lethargiccayla: Thank you for reading this story too and dropping a comment for me. I love new readers and I welcome them from the bottom of my heart.
> 
> Jazmaniac: I needed that comment very much. Thank you. 
> 
> Seekerofhappiness: When you said my story was unique and it was one of your favorites in a while – My smile was so big. It felt so good. Thank you very very much.
> 
> Kaesar and nephilim667 and Jadeo01: I am seriously interested what you guys will think about the twists I've written ;) thank you for the comments and I hope your questions will be answered (someday lol xdd) Lots of love!
> 
> Please drop a comment and tell me what you thought about Part I. I am very interested!! 
> 
> For the titles: I used sentences and words from 'The Book of Revelation'
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and the comments even if you've just read it!!! It means life for writers!!! 
> 
>  
> 
> Part II will be called 'Our fears do make us Traitors'

**Chapter 12**

  


**The One who Conquers**

  


**Will have This**

  


**Heritage**

  
  
  
  


“So I was telling him to shut up, but he won’t and I’m like, why the hell do you need to listen to your sister–in–law, cousin Peter? And he’s like, I want to marry Maria. And I was like, who the hell is Maria? And then–”

 

“Theo, you don’t even have a cousin! Who in the hell is Maria? ” Draco yelled, looking at the wide–eyed Blaise. “Why are you two talking about this anyway?”

 

Blaise looked utterly lost and confused, just as Draco.

 

“I asked him about the weather,” he blinked at Theo, who sat next to him and was eating his pasta at the table, “and somehow we ended up here.”

 

“That’s because,” Theo pointed at Blaise with his fork, “he talked about Ronald Weasley and I really don’t care about that, Zabini.”

 

Blaise was gaping like a fish.

 

Draco lifted an eyebrow, looking at Theo and Blaise. “What about a Weasley? They all blood-traitors, what this has to do with us?”

 

Blaise opened his mouth in the exact same moment as Theo groaned loudly in pain.

 

“Nothing, but here’s the interesting part. He’s got in Slytherin. Everyone was surprised,” Blaise said and Draco glanced at him, surprised. “He’s the first Weasley in Slytherin.”

 

“They will eat him alive.” Theo murmured into his food and shook his head. “Tell him to go to church, Zabini. Start prayin’ for a quick death. Otherwise, he will end up like cousin Gerard.”

 

Draco stared at him for a minute.

 

And then–

 

“For Salazar’s sake Theo, who is Gerard?”

 

Theo waved a hand at Draco while Blaise shook his head at Theo in disbelief. “They won’t eat him. There’s gotta be a reason why he was sorted in Slytherin.”

 

Draco leaned on the table with chin on his two fists and gave out a mysterious smile.

 

“Everything and everyone has a role.” He said with grey–glowing eyes. “We just have to wait and see.”

 

Theo snorted but Blaise was nodding with closed eyes, believing Draco’s every word.

 

“I think so too, darling,” said the woman voice and Draco felt that she grabbed the chair that he was sitting on.

 

Everyone froze at the table except Draco. He sensed that Auntie Bellatrix walked in the dining room.

 

Blaise paled while Theo squeezed his fork until his fingertips were white.

 

“Why are you so silent, Theodore?” Auntie teased him. “Tongue got burnt, perhaps?

 

Draco’s eyes twitched and he sensed that Blaise clenched his fists under the table.

 

“Watch it, Lestrange,” Theo whispered with malice, still squeezing his fork. Draco was afraid that Theo maybe wanted to throw it in one of her eyes. “There’s a reason why the demon fire craved for me as a living host.”

 

Auntie laughed but Draco’s body tensed up and straightened. Blaise looked at him in the corner of his eyes.

 

“How adorable, thinking you could beat me,” Auntie said gently, “wait a couple of years and we’ll see who’d win, Fiendfyre Consumer.”

 

Draco’s blood froze in his veins when he saw that lazy, fiery eyes, looking furious.

 

“I’m already counting down the days.”

  
  


 

**–––––––––––––––––––––**

  
  


 

“You are doing perfectly great, darling.”

 

Draco heard Auntie’s whispers in his ear as he was clenching the anonymous person’s lungs in his hands.

 

 _‘It’s for practice.’_ Auntie said an hour ago. _‘It will help you.’_

 

But now,

 

The man was begging him a couple of minutes ago, but now, he just fell down on the ground, dead.

 

“See?” Auntie Bellatrix touched the man’s opened chest with her wand. “This is the quickest way to kill someone with your power. Go for the lungs, sweetie. Rip out and then wither it.”

 

Draco was looking at the big lungs in his hands. His black–veined hands arms and black hands were vivid compared to the red blood.

 

“Yes, Auntie.” Draco whispered with a cold voice. “You can send in the next.”

 

Auntie smiled and ruffled his hair with fondness. “As you wish, My Prince,” she stared at him for a moment. Her eyes turned gentle. “You’re like ‘Cissy. You look like her and you are her.”

 

Draco felt something pierce through him.

 

He never knew his mother – he only saw her in picture. Lucius never talked about her and Draco didn’t have memories about her. At all.

 

He knew The Dark Lord kill her.

 

He knew it was because he was a Horcrux.

 

He also knew that he didn’t feel anything about this.

 

Sometimes he tried to cry. He tried to feel angry. Tried to feel lonely, tried to feel sorrow, tried to mourn but nothing ever happened.

 

Draco was born like this.

 

There was nothing

 

he could do about it.

 

She whistled and Draco let go of the lungs, letting them fall down on the ground, next to the lifeless person’s body.

 

As Draco ripped out some spines, hearts, livers, ribs, bowels – hearing his Auntie’s delightful laugh and seeing her approving eyes –

 

He didn’t feel anything but he knew this was essential. He needed to do it.

 

So with every spine, heart, liver, rib, bowel, Draco tried better, faster, harder–

 

And when he was at the thirtieth one

 

he

 

just

 

cut

 

off

 

his

 

head.

 

And when he walked into his room in that afternoon, proud of himself, he saw Theo.

 

He had a strange look in his eyes. It was that look in them again. That look Draco could never put anywhere.

 

It vanished after some minute but Draco noticed it.

  
  


 

**–––––––––––––––––––––**

 

  


Auntie Bellatrix gave him the Diary and the Helga Hufflepuff’s Cup from her vault. The goblins didn’t say a word when she got there – she told Draco. He knew that very well. Gringotts was on their side.

 

Draco looked at the two Horcruxes – feeling the power in them, circling around them, in them.

 

The Dark Lord put them there, before he died. He put them for Draco.

 

This meant that he had three Horcruxes with the ring. Four, if he counted himself. When he watched The Dark Lord’s memory, Draco saw everything clearer than ever. He knew that now he only had to get two things:

 

Rowena Ravenclaw’s Diadem

 

and

 

Salazar Slytherin’s Locket.

 

He only saw where the Locket was. He didn't know where the Diadem was. Draco bet it was in Hogwarts so he’ll get Blaise to search it for him when he goes back after Christmas break.

 

Draco saw Peter Pettigrew too in the memory. He needed to find that man as well – but according to his father, he had been dead for many years by now. Draco sensed that he lived. He didn’t know where the man was, but he knew he lived.

 

He will find him. He’ll be needed when The Dark Lord comes back.

 

But first,

 

Draco needed to search for Salazar Slytherin’s Locket.

  
  


 

**_––––––––––––––––––––––_ **

 

  


It was a cave by the sea.

 

He and Theo they had to swim through the swirling waters among the rocks. Theo was swearing the whole time – hating fire like the plague. When they reached the ground, Draco sensed powerful protective enchantments.

 

He pulled off one of his gloves and touched the air – sensing how it crumbled down like dust – like nothing.

 

It was The Dark Lord’s spell but it still crumbled.

 

For a moment

 

It made Draco wonder about his card.

 

Famine’s card.

 

While Pestilance is the First and the Last.

 

They say

 

Famine Gives and Takes all.

 

If Draco only dared,

 

He looked at his hands,

 

What could he give

 

and

 

take?

 

“Draco, is it okay now?”

 

Draco winced and nodded at Theo.

 

“It needs my blood then we can go.” He said, already cutting a small area on the wrist, spilling in there where it was needed. Then his blood healed himself and then Draco walked in with Theo.

 

A faint green light was visible in a vast chamber containing an underground lake. Draco carefully concealed boat that would allow them safe passage across the lake.

 

When they were on the water, Theo was looking down at the lake, firing up his fingertips, caressing the lake’s surface. The Inferi kept the distance from the boat and they arrived to the small island.

 

Theo and Draco noticed at the exact same moment. They found a basin filled with glowing green potion.

 

He and Theo walked towards it slowly. Draco knew ordinary wizards needed to drink it, but he only touched the water with his black–veined hands and it disappeared.

 

Draco smiled, happy that he had another Horcrux in his pocket and then pulled back on his gloved and took out Salazar Slytherin’s Locket–

 

He froze.

 

“What’s wrong?” Theo asked, worried. “Draco?! What is it?”

 

That’s not it, that’s not it, that’s not it, that’s not it, that’s not it, that’s not–

 

He didn’t feel the Horcrux magic.

 

Draco felt a quiet fury stir in him and he

 

opened the Locket.

 

He started to read the small scrap of paper with shaking hands:

  
  


_"To Pestilence (The old one)_

 

_I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can._

 

_I am sure you know what that means. For us, Horsemen._

 

_You know I can see the future, brother. I know the boy who will stole your power and I know that you will die by his hands._

 

_My time is up._

_I face death in the hope that when you meet your match again you will be mortal once more.”_

 

_– R.A.B._

 

_Your brother, One of the Horsemen_

 

_Death._

  
  
  


 

**_––––––––––––––––––––––––_ **

 

  


“He found the Locket.”

 

Albus Dumbledore looked at the boy in front of him and then smiled at his brother, Aberforth, who sat next to the young man.

 

“Right in time,” said Albus and took a sip of his tea. The strawberry tickled his nose with sweetness and warmth.

 

Aberforth blue eyes held his brother’s. It was sharp and light.

 

“It’s time for the second act, shall we?” he said gravelly, raising his tea. “If we want to win this forsaken nonsense, that is.”

 

Albus clinked his cup with Aberforth.

 

“To Pestilence and Famine.” He whispered with glowing eyes. “The ones who will save us all.”

 

Aberforth shut down his eyes in pain, “To Pestilence and Famine,” he whispered. “ _Dies Irae_.”

 

Albus then leaned closer to the young boy. He looked into his black eyes.

 

“Shall we begin the second act?” Dumbledore asked, “War.”

  
  
  
  


** END OF PART I **

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music that I used (everything is available on YouTube):
> 
> Harry's piano's soundtrack for Part I:
> 
> – For the 'Played Majestically' scene: Peter Gundry – Mischievous Minds  
> – Harry's mother's song: Chopin – Ballade No. 1 in G minor, Op. 23  
> – Talking with Viktor before the 2nd Game: Instrumental Core – God's Idea Of A New Era (Orchestral Bonus Track)
> 
> Harry's themes for Part I:  
> – Instrumental Core – Uprising  
> – RSM and Instrumental Core – My World  
> – Deyan and Harry's fight: Halsey – Castle (Instrumental)  
> – Pestilence's theme: Emma Swan – Mark Isham
> 
> Draco's themes for Part I:  
> – Little hummingbird scene: The Piano Duet - Tim Burton's Corpse Bride (Extended version)  
> – Narcissa: Peter Gundry – A Heart Without Colour  
> – Famine's theme: American Horror Story: Freak Show Theme. Piano (Synthesia)  
> – The Dark Lord's Heir: Jóhann Jóhansson – Escape
> 
> Theo's themes for Part I:  
> – Gifted Child: Downton Abbey OST – 06. Damaged  
> – Theo's fiery eyes: Downton Abbey OST – Patrick  
> – Fiendfyre Consumer: Instrumental Core – Equivalence of two World's
> 
> The Horseman, War's theme:  
> – Gotham (OST) 1x16 Jerome's interrogation
> 
> The Horseman, Death's theme:  
> – Lucas King – Sociopath
> 
> Aberforth and Albus's theme:  
> – The Theory of Everything Soundtrack 06 – Collapsing Inwards
> 
>  
> 
> Until we meet again, my adorable–evils!! Love you!!!

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think my adorable–evils? :)) Hoped you enjoyed it *big hugs*


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